Sparking the Shivered Soul
by aihe
Summary: He’s going to help her destroy the Horcruxes and Voldemort, and she’ll help him reconstruct his shattered soul as Tom Riddle. Along the way, she’ll also teach him what it means to have one and he’ll teach her that everything can’t just be black and white.
1. Prologue

Sparking the Shivered Soul

Prologue

Rating: T

Disclaimer: Anything recognizable is not mine. Not making money and taking no credit. Please don't hurt me!

A/N: This is AU and diverges from the canon HP-verse mid 6th book. Also it's assumed that Tom killed Myrtle in 7th year and killed his father and grandparents the summer after to make the Horcrux. It's always how I read it since I didn't think he could kill his father if he were still in school and not be found out somehow. Also, please excuse the OOC Tom in the prologue; I hope it's not unreadable. There will be forthcoming explanations on why they're in the same dream, how not all parts of V's soul are created equal, and how not all Horcruxes are the same.

---

_Five Years Ago_

_She sat in front of her favorite table at the back of the library. This table had been a good friend to her all of first year, especially before she had managed to make human ones. It was tucked in a corner out of view but still had fantastic lighting from a well-placed window. She could sit here for hours and not notice any of it pass, and frequently did so. The sporadic passer-by knew not to disturb her. _

_She was then all the more surprised when she lifted her head and saw a boy sitting across the table from her. She could tell immediately that he was not her age; he was much older and probably in his sixth or seventh year. He was tall, dark, lithe and quite attractive, she noted critically. Her eyes finally moved down and caught the decorations on his uniform; not only was he a Slytherin but he was also Head Boy. _

_She frowned. He could not be head boy. She actually had a conversation with the guy on the Hogwarts Express a few weeks ago when she realized that it had left without Ron and Harry. The head boy this year was Charles Welker, a cheerful and kind Hufflepuff, not this dark and handsome creature. _

_He was reading a book and seemed unaware of her presence; his body language indicated that did not wish to be disturbed. _

_She was terribly confused; not he was not the head boy but she did not recognize him at all from her first year. Why was he sitting at her table? _

_She cleared her throat and he looked up. The depth of his dark eyes startled her. Nobody she has met in her life, adult or otherwise, has ever looked at her like that. His gaze pinned her in place like some kind butterfly specimen. She wondered how far that gaze went. _

"_Who are you and what are you doing here?" he snapped. His tone was rude but his haughty expression showed that he expected an answer anyways. _

"_I should ask you the same thing," she said, ire and volume rising with each word, "I know the Head Boy this year and you are not him." _

_She watched as he took in her words and turned to study their surroundings. Puzzlement gave way to realization in seconds and the look on his face told her that he had figured something important out. She did not care how old or wise somebody was, she hated it when they found the answer before she did and left her in the dark. _

_That made her slightly more irritated than she might have been otherwise. "Well?" She snapped her fingers in front of her face and then crossed her arms for good measure. _

_His gaze shifted to her fingers, then back up to her face. He seemed unperturbed. "Perhaps I should introduce myself. I am Tom Riddle." _

_The name sounded familiar. It was not entirely unique but quite lovely and it reminded her of the villain from Batman. Then it clicked where she had read it and she stared at him shock. "But you graduated almost fifty years ago!" _

"_How in Merlin's name do you know that?" Startled would have been an understatement for his reaction. _

"_I was bored one day last year and read through the names of some of the students that had been at the top of their classes. No one has managed to graduate with more honors than you in the last fifty years." _

"_That is gratifying to know." His sarcasm surprised her. How cocky he was! _

"_I plan to change that of course," she added. She almost laughed at his astounded expression; she had worn that expression when recognized the egg that Hagrid was incubating in his hearth. _

_He looked down at the Gryffindor crest sewn on her left breast and past it to the book sitting in front of her. It was the same one she had been reading all week; it sat on her bedside table inside the cover of one of Professor Lockhart's books. Madame Pince looked like she had wanted to object when she went to get it out but in the end she had only given her the disapproving frown. _

"Dark Arts and Death_ seems extremely advanced for a third year," he said. _

"_I'm in second year, thank you." _

_His expression went from surprised to speculative so quickly that she felt slightly uneasy. _

"_What?" she asked. _

"_I wonder why I am here." His voice was low and thoughtful. _

"_What do you mean why you are here? Do you mean why you are in Hogwarts?" _

"_Of course not," he said, looking around pointedly. "I mean why I am in your dream." _

_She realized almost immediately after he had said it that she was in a dream. Her surroundings were hazy and indistinct and in fact the only thing coming to her clearly and sharply was Tom himself. "Well, if this is my dream than you're just a manifestation of my subconscious." That explained everything. _

"_But I am _not_," he said firmly, "a manifestation of your subconscious. I am present. _Here_." He spoke so firmly that she almost believed him, even with such a ludicrous claim. _

"_Are you saying that we're both in this dream?" As she said it her mind was already working through the possibilities. "That we are in some kind of collective unconscious?" _

"_Perhaps, but as you say, I belong fifty years in your past. I would not be as you see me in your present. Only the person writing…" he stopped before he finished. _

_She waited for the rest of the sentence and quickly realized that it was not forthcoming. It was curious and she found herself wondering what he was going to say. "I guess we're not in Kansas anymore."_

_He tilted his head at her odd line. _

_She sighed at the blank expression on his face. She had almost forgotten that he was a Slytherin. "I guess you don't really know anything about muggles," she added by way of explanation. _

_The reaction on him was immediate. "Why would _I_ associate with muggles and mudbloods?" he spat, his eyes glittering with hatred. _

_She recoiled and was surprised that she did not fall over her chair in her haste to get away. His face shrunk into the background, first slow and then faster. She saw him receding into the distance like a bullet, or maybe it was that she was being pulled away. _

_Of course it was a dream_, she thought when she woke up. Hermione found herself back in her bed, comfortable sheets beneath and warm September air tickling above. It was far too early for any of them to have their bed hangings drawn and she found that she could see all the other second year girls just by raising her head slightly. They were all asleep.

She settled herself back into bed and closed her eyes. She felt a vague sense of pain that the boy had been so prejudiced. He was very handsome, perhaps even more so than Professor Lockhart, and his school record indicated that was somewhat of a genius as well. She had enjoyed speaking with him up to that point.

_Oh well_, she thought as her mind drifted off again.

By the time she got up in the morning, she had long forgotten one Tom Riddle.

---

_Water lapped slowly at the banks of the lake. Though clad in only her nightgown, the early November chill did not bother her. The breeze ruffled some of her hair and blew a few strands across her face. She tucked them behind her ears as she looked around. _

_He sat at the edge of a small overhang off to her right. He was idly throwing pebbles into the water. He had all the airs of one brooding heavily about something. _

_She deduced almost immediately after seeing him that she was dreaming. There were no sounds and no movement. There was nothing except him and the bright glowing half moon hanging in the sky and bouncing off the surface of the lake. Everything else was shrouded in a haze off at the periphery. _

_She walked over slowly and moved to sit beside him. At the last moment she recalled his last words to her and left some space between them. He did not seem surprised at her appearance and he seemed too caught up in his own gloom and pensiveness to care about her._

_"Hullo Tom," she said quietly. She looked out at the dreamscape lake and wondered if she could make it pink if she tried hard enough. Or maybe she should try with scarlet and gold instead, wondering how much Tom would appreciate that. Further reflection ruled it out as a bad idea. In the end she decided to just wait him out since she herself never enjoyed being provoked or prodded when she was thinking hard about something._

_A few minutes passed before he seemed compelled to speak, either out of politeness or desire. "How goes your grand plan to defeat my school record?" His tone was sarcastic but preoccupation stole some of the bite. _

"_It goes," she sniffed. _

_He gave her a slightly amused sideways glance. _

"_School itself is being a bit hampered a little by what's going on though." _

"_Do elaborate," he said woodenly. He sounded very much as if he would rather not know. He had also tensed and covered his face with a blank expression that put the ones Harry and Ron sported to shame. _

_She did not want to make him more upset but she really wanted to speak to someone smart about the things on her mind. She did not want to waste this opportunity. "There was an attack on a cat a few nights ago. Someone seems to think that they are opening the Chamber of Secrets again." _

"_I see." His maintained his empty tone. _

_She was surprised by his reaction. "Aren't you even going to say that it's impossible and the Chamber of Secrets doesn't exist?" _

"_But it does exist. Surely you believe that now from what you've seen?" Some feeling had returned to his voice. _

"_Well, yes. But that's what all our teachers say." _

_Tom looked at her speculatively. "Let us assume as a premise that the Chamber of Secrets exists. You believe it and I do as well." _

"_Okay." _

"_Does the thought terrify you?" A shadow of a smile appeared on his face as his eyes glittered. _

_She was vaguely reminded of Hannibal Lecter in Silence of the Lambs which she snuck downstairs and watched one night after her parents had forbade her to do so. "No. Well, yes but also no." She struggled to put her thoughts into words. She turned and folded her legs so that she sat cross-legged and facing him. She idly picked up a strand of hair and chewed on it. "I mean, I don't want anybody to hurt but the whole thing is rather thrilling and wondrous." _

"_Thrilling and wondrous." He repeated her words slowly, as if turning them around in his mouth first. His eyes found hers and bore into them, searching for a trace of a lie. _

"_Imminently." She felt almost relieved to be able to tell him this secret, something she could not voice to her friends, her peers, or even her teachers. "I mean think about it, a thousand years ago one of the _creators_ of Hogwarts built a room which _no one_ can find. Then he put inside it a monster so amazing and legendary that it might still be alive. Do you not find that wondrous?" _

"_I find it…" He stopped and looked away from her again. He seemed vaguely disturbed about something and she was not sure she wanted to know. There was a darkness to him that bothered her, even in such a safe and tranquil place at this. She looked out again at the water rippling gently under the breeze. _

"_Well, I do not agree with what he thought should be done with the monster, but I should dearly love to see it," she continued, looking wistfully out to the lake. _

"_Would you now?" His tone was thoughtful and slightly ironic. Then something else occurred to him. "You do not agree with Slytherin's desire for purity?" _

"_No, I most certainly do not!" she said indignantly. "_I_ do not wish to die." _

"_You're a half-blood?" he asked in disbelief. _

_She shook her head. "A muggleborn actually, or perhaps you prefer the term mudblood?" She still marveled at how much pain it cost her to just say the word though she did her best not to show it. _

_The mask on his face slipped a little and he looked away. _

_She could not help the thoughts swirling in her head. They got progressively bitterer as the silence dragged on. She held out for a good few minutes before she felt compelled to defend what she should not have to defend. "I suppose you're too good to sit here and talk to me now?" She asked angrily. "I can be the best in my year, the most brilliant witch in a generation but I guess nothing will acquit me of the horrendous crime of being born to muggles. Would that I be burned at the stake for the grievance."_

_He would not look at her and continued to say nothing._

_She signed in exasperation. This whole thing was so _stupid_, and if there was one thing she could not abide, it was stupidity. "Look, let's operate under the premise that even if we disagree on the importance of blood, it does not matter a knut here. Even if we wanted to, there's nothing we could do to each other. So can we just work around that somehow since we have to be in each other's company until somebody wakes up?" _

_He did not respond besides throwing another pebble into the water but she took it as a good sign that he made no move to argue further or move away either. He had always given her the impression of being a little lonely, something she understood well from growing up so much smarter than everyone else. _

"_Come on, let's call a truce and I'll tell you about our plan to find the Heir of Slytherin." _

_That did it. He startled and looked back at her with those dark eyes. They were unreadable most of the time but he could not hide the disbelief in this case. "You are trying to uncover the Heir of Slytherin?" _

"_Well someone's got to."_

_He gave her a pointed once over. "If you haven't looked in a mirror lately I suggest that you do. Despite what ever overly Gryffindor lens you are seeing the world through, you're still only a twelve year old girl." _

"_Oh that doesn't matter," she shrugged. "Besides, we have an idea of who might be behind it." _

"_Do you now?" It was the first time he had really smiled. Even though it was an amused, mocking smile, she could not help but think that it made him look a lot more handsome. _

"_Yes, although I'm not quite sure how we'd prove it. My friends and I, I mean." _

"_Prove it," he murmured. _

"_Make him confess," she clarified. _

"_And do you have a plan to make somebody confess?" He drawled out that last word in such a way that it was obvious he was patronizing her. _

_She ignored his tone. "I was thinking a truth potion of some kind." She frowned. "But if he really is the Heir of Slytherin, he'll probably be on guard for it." _

"_A truth potion," he repeated thoughtfully. "And who is this mysterious heir of Slytherin who might be getting a truth potion?" _

_Hermione sighed and resumed chewing on her hair. "To be honest, I not quite sure that Draco Malfoy _is_ the Heir of Slytherin. At the very least I don't believe he's orchestrating these attacks."  
_

_He raised an eyebrow at her. _

"_Well, you see, Salazar Slytherin was brilliant. I mean of course you know that. But I mean like genius brilliant. He must have made sure that any idiot couldn't just open up his Chamber and send the monster off to do who knows what. It would or should have to take someone brilliant. And Draco's kind of just a dumb twelve-year old." She paused and smiled wryly. "We all are really." _

_A curious expression crossed his face that she could not quite read. "You might be selling yourself short, muggleborn." _

_She made a face at the mode of address but supposed it was better than 'mudblood'. "So I mean, it's really more that I'm trying to eliminate him from the list of suspects than anything, but if it isn't him than I'm really at a loss. There aren't that many possibilities you know, and whoever it was would have to be brilliant. I mean, absolutely brilliant." _

"_Mmm-hmm." He looked out over the water again and his eyes grew vague. _

_She wondered what he was thinking. Then a thought occurred to her and she frowned._

"_Or maybe it's something else entirely. I mean, someone brilliant might not have to be a student in order to move pawns around at Hogwarts. Considering the world we live in, it might not even have to be a person at Hogwarts right now. Something like the Imperius Curse or…" she trailed off as she realized what she was saying. Where had all that come from? However the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. _

"_Have you ever heard of a book called Moste Potente Potions?" he asked abruptly. There was a look of discomfort in his eyes as they searched hers. His question was enough to derail her thoughts. _

"_Of course I have," she said, interest piqued at the discussion of a book from the Restricted Section. "It has the recipes of a lot of the potions I've read about. I've never been able to get close to the shelves it's on without Madame Pince shooing me away. That woman's like a hawk." She made a sour face. _

"_Well if you did manage to get your hands on it, there might be a way for you to eliminate this Malfoy from your list of potential suspects." _

"_How?"  
_

"_The Polyjuice Potion." _

_Her eyes widened as she realized the implications. "Why didn't I think of that?" she said, snapping her fingers. "It's pretty advanced but I think I can make it." She bit her lip, thinking over the logistics. "And I know how I might be able to convince a teacher to let me read get book too." _

_It was then that she noticed that her surroundings were getting lighter and she looked up. The Sun's rapid rise on the horizon was casting everything into an orange glow. She could feel the echo of pressure against her body as she rolled over in bed. She grinned at him. "I think that's my cue." She stood up and straightened her nightgown. "Thanks for your help Tom; I'll let you know how it goes!" _

_He just nodded at her, face unreadable. As the light shined brighter and brighter on him, his expression and then the rest of his body faded to white. _

Hermione woke up with the sun on her face, a plan in mind and new determination in her heart. This time, as she got ready to face the day, she remembered Tom Riddle.

---

_Her footsteps echoed slightly in the silence of the Great Hall. There was only a single person in the room when she walked in, lit dimly by a few candles floating near the walls and the soft moonlight that made the enchanted ceiling glow. He was sitting near the middle of the Slytherin table and looking over at the Headmaster's podium. She wondered what he was thinking. _

_He turned and watched her as she approached. He did not look surprised to see her there, nor did he look unhappy. _

"_Hello muggleborn," he said when she got closer. _

_She rolled her eyes. "Hullo Tom." _

"_Did the potion work?" he asked. _

"_I don't want to talk about it," she said firmly. She sat on the table and propped her feet on the bench next to where he was seated so that she was facing him. _

"_Was it too difficult to make?" He shot her an amused look._

"_The potion was made perfectly, thank you very much." She infused her voice with as much acid as she could and hoped it would stop the conversation. No such luck. _

"_Then what could have possibly gone wrong?" he asked with that kind of fake boyish innocence so unlike him that she took a few moments to regain her train of thought. _

_She pulled a face, not wanting to admit her mistake but decided to just get it over with. She did not think that Tom would just let it go. "I accidentally picked up a…" She paused and closed her eyes, wincing as she said, "a cat hair." _

_He just looked at for a second, his mind no doubt piecing together exactly what had happened. Then he laughed. It was slow and halting at first, as if he were not used to laughing, but got louder and stronger as he looked up and saw her glare. _

"_It is _not_ funny!" _

_He composed himself with some effort. "Of course not."_

_She was glad that he seemed to enjoy the humor at her expense but she did not like being laughed it. "Like I said, the potion was perfect." She lifted her head and looked down her nose at him. _

"_Quite an accomplishment." The side of his mouth twitched as he said it though. _

_She stared at him, daring him to laugh again. After assuring herself that he had finished, she continued. "I was right of course; Draco has no idea who's doing the whole thing and now two Gryffindors and one of our ghosts have been attacked. _

_He did not say anything and a slight expression of unease appeared on his face. _

"_They're alive but I can't help feeling that it's less a plan and more dumb luck." _

_He remained silent. _

"_I mean, this is a monster brought here to kill students. I'm not sure why ours lived but I can't help feeling that it's key to identifying what exactly is running around our school killing people, or trying to at least." _

"_Running," Tom repeated almost to himself. _

"_Well, not necessarily running," she amended, "it's just an expression. It could be crawling or slithering or even flying around the school." She grimaced at the thought of something crawling around her school. _

_He just looked past her at the hangings on the wall. Even though he was unreadable in a general way, she couldn't help feel that he looked slightly down. _

"_I hate to say it but this thing would probably be a lot easier to identify if it did kill something or someone. I wonder how previous victims have died." _

_He flinched at her words. _

"_You never told me that you caught Hagrid for opening the Chamber of Secrets when you were both in school," she said quietly. "Or that you knew the girl who was killed." _

"_You've been talking to Harry Potter," he said as he looked up at her, eyes pausing briefly at her Gryffindor crest. _

"_I know you did what you thought was the right thing but I don't think Hagrid would kill anybody." _

"_He was keeping a giant spider in the school." _

"_Giant spiders do not live for thousands of years." _

"_Perhaps not," he conceded. "And anyway I have to admit that he does not quite fit your description for the Heir of Slytherin. He has always been kind of a blundering fool." _

"_Don't say that!" she hissed. _

"_Even if it's true?" he asked, totally unaffected by her anger. _

"_Well it doesn't matter anyways; the monster is still running loose in Hogwarts. I can't help but feel whenever I turn a corner that I'll be petrified or worse. It's making even going to class quite jumpy and overly exciting." She tried to make a light of it but the anxiety had actually been causing her real stress. _

_His eyes found hers. "I believe," he began slowly, "that if someone were trying to pick off mud…muggle-borns in this school, you would be the last on the list." _

"_Really?" she asked, unconvinced. _

"_I do not believe that Slytherin would have been completely ashamed to have you at his school." _

_She had to bite back an extremely sarcastic comment, realizing that he meant it as a compliment. She finally settled on a short "I'm so glad." _

_His lips twitched slightly but he did not add anything. He looked back up at the head table. _

"_What are you looking at?" she said as she leaned in towards him, her gaze following his. _

"_I wanted that seat once," he said softly. _

"_You wanted to be the Headmaster of Hogwarts," she inferred. _

"_Yes." _

"_As worthy a goal as any," she said, looking at the place where Professor Dumbledore usually sits and imagining Tom there. "What do you want to be now?" _

"_What?" He looked completely taken aback._

_She frowned. She was sure he had heard her but her perfectly reasonable question threw him for some reason. "You said you wanted that seat 'once'. That means that you replaced it with a different ambition. What do you want to be now?" _

_He was silent for a minute; either he was considering what he wanted to be or deciding if he should tell her. "It doesn't matter anymore." _

_She shrugged; she could not make him tell her. "Well I'm not really sure what I want to do when I get out of here, perhaps some kind of research or teaching." She turned slightly and lay back on the table in front of him, hands beneath her head. The moon and starlight in the bewitched ceiling were always brighter than what she could see in England._

"_Now what are _you_ looking at?" he said with some amusement. _

"_The ceiling - isn't it beautiful?" _

"_You can see the very same thing outside." _

"_Yes," she grinned at him, "but it won't be _magic_ then." _

_He took a long breath as he studied her. "You are a very strange little girl," he said thoughtfully. _

"_Little?" she said indignantly. _

"_You are very young."_

"_Yes, I'm sure I am to someone with all the experience and wisdom of being seventeen." _

_A shadow passed over his face and he looked away. _

_She watched the sky for a few minutes before feeling like she should say something. "I suppose you're right about me but I won't be little forever." _

"_No, I suppose you won't," he said, looking up to study the ceiling with her. "You wish to be a teacher?" _

"_Or a researcher." _

"_Why would you wish to research magic?" _

"_My first math, err well, arithmetic teacher asked me if I thought that numbers was something to be invented or something to be discovered. Did we create the way they fit together or did we discover it?" She pursed her lips. "I mean I don't know about math but I think that when it comes to magic, the answer is both. We both discover it and we create it, and isn't that just fantastic?" _

_His face grew expressionless again. _

"_Not only would you be able to explore and uncover magic in research," she continued, "but you can also invent and make and create it. Just the very idea sounds kind of beautiful." _

"_Beautiful," he echoed, thinking on the word. _

"_Don't you agree?" _

"_I suppose that magic is about the only thing of which I've known that I might use that word to describe." _

"_That's a cumbersome way of saying 'yes'," she laughed. Then she thought of something that depressed her. "Well, at this rate I'm probably going to have to go be an Auror or something." _

"_An Auror?" _

"_Well yes. My friends are going to want to fight Lord Voldemort if he's still out there when we graduate, and they're absolutely useless sometimes without my help." She bit her lip. "It's hardly what I wanted to do in life but it must be done." _

_His expression became outraged almost instantly. "You? Fight Lord Voldemort?" You cannot be serious!" _

"_Why not us?" _

"_Do you have a death wish little girl?" _

"_We'll only die if we don't succeed!" _

"_You think that you children can defeat Lord Voldemort?" he spat. She got off the table and stood facing him. _

"_Children have done it before!" _

"_Yes, of course, the great Harry Potter," he said, standing up on his side of the table as well. _

"_Yes Harry Potter! Yes everyone. It's our duty to stop evil from taking over the world." _

"_And you think that all you have to do is say it?" _

"_Well if not us then who? He's been gone for more than a decade and half the Wizarding World cowers in terror at the mere mention of his name! We have to defend ourselves. It's good versus evil." _

"_Good versus evil," he repeated. _

"_Yes, and it is light versus dark and right versus wrong. And even if we lose, which I don't think we will, we have to at least fight. It's what people do." _

_He laughed a quick humorless laugh. "Of course, it's so simple - right and wrong!" _

_Her chin shot up. "There has not been a dark witch or wizard ever who did not eventually get beaten back and defeated. Why should Lord Voldemort be any different?" _

_He opened his mouth but nothing came out. He turned and walked towards the front doors. _

"_I will not run and hide from someone who is not even a shadow of his former self," she said, half running up the next aisle to keep up with his long angry strides. _

"_Lord Voldemort had the Wizarding World trembling at his feet!" _

"_And where is he now?" _

_He jerked himself to a stop and faced her across the table. He looked as if he were going to shout something at her. _

"_Voldemort is a coward." She had blurted it out but the look on his face made her wish she had not said it. _

"_What did you say?" His voice went low and dangerous but she was not one to back down. _

"_I said," she enunciated for effect, "that Lord Voldemort is a coward." _

"_You don't know what you are talking about." His anger was palpable. _

"_He's a bully, like some sort of spoiled child." _

_Tom's face contorted and he looked like he would come through the table to throttle her._

"_I don't know what he's afraid of but he's afraid of something." She felt compelled to try and change his mind. She could not believe how anyone would side with Voldemort when the man would kill her and everybody like her. "Terrified even." _

"_Stop." _

"_Those who are not afraid of the world and all that it entails do not try and control everything around them." _

"_STOP!" _

_But she was on a roll and could not stop herself even if she tried. "Surely you can see it?" she said desperately. Why will he not listen to her?_

"_I told you to _stop_!" He shouted the last word._

"_He cannot have love so he chooses fear, he cannot have friends so he chooses subjects, and he cannot have faith so he chooses order."_

_Tom raised a wand at her and took blew the table straight up to land upside down near the entrance of the hall. _

_The loud clatter made her flinch but she felt safe in her own dream. He could not hurt her here. She very much wanted to make him see and come around to her side. "He's so afraid of dying alone that he chooses to prevent death altogether. You can't get more cowardly than that." _

"_How _dare _you?" he asked, his voice rising. His wand hand shook with rage as he pointed it at her. He murmured something she could not make out clearly and waved it. Nothing happened. _

"_He would turn the world into a living hell to just to avoid facing his fears," she finished quietly. Hermione felt a sort of detachment set in as his face became bloated and his eyes bugged out. She would normally be terrified at such a reaction but this was merely a dream. At least she hoped it was. _

"HOW DARE YOU_?" He roared again with such fury and malevolence that she shied back. He took a step towards her in her dreamscape and her heart started pounding double-time despite her belief in her safety. Just as he came within touching distance, the whole world dissipated. _

Hermione woke up with a gasp and jerked herself into a sitting position. Her hands reached out and grabbed fistful of covers. The other four-poster beds in the room were bleached by the dim starlight that shimmered through the windows; she could not see any movement from any of them. She sat still for a minute, taking long slow breaths and reassuring herself that all was quiet, before sinking back into bed.

It took almost an hour to get back to sleep; she could not stop thinking about the rage he exhibited. Why such anger? Did he work for Lord Voldemort? Did he hate her now? Finally, she forced herself to just push all of it away and count sheep and salvage what little sleep she could. It was going to be a big day, what with Gryffindor playing Hufflepuff in the final Quidditch game of the year. It might cheer Harry up some if they won…

---

A/N: For those of you who've forgotten, the quidditch match she is thinking of at the end got cancelled. Remember why? And that's not a bad insight for a girl of her age at the end there but Hermione should probably know her audience a little better. Tee-hee.

Also I borrowed the term "collective unconscious" from Seven of Nine. The Voyager writers probably took it from Jung.

I've never managed to scribble out more a few one-shots before writing this piece and I haven't written anything in a few years. Please don't flame me but please do make constructive comments/criticisms. If I have a particular writing habit that's annoying you, or a word I'm consistently using wrong, I'd like to hear about it. I do know about my problem with pacing but it will probably get better with practice *crosses fingers*. Chapter 1 is almost written. Not only will Hermione have grown up (in more than one sense) but there will be some appearances by Draco as well!


	2. Chapter 1: An Unlikely Ally

An Unlikely Ally

A/N: I hope this clears up the plot a little. I hadn't planned on writing the prologue originally and it ended up a lot longer than I expected (and was a real pain to write too). The actual story comes a lot easier and yes, it's been plotted and the ending's been half written already, so I know where it's going. Be warned that this is basically a shameless fluffy Hermione/Tom Riddle love story disguised as something with a real plot.

---

_She felt like she was floating down the halls. Perhaps she had died and now she was a ghost hanging in the air. She knew she was higher up than normal. _

_Or maybe she was walking for she could almost hear the even solid footsteps like they were echoes of echoes. _

_She slowed as she saw a shadowy figure ahead of her. _

"_Twenty points from Hufflepuff, Crawly." The voice came from her but was not hers. "Get to bed."_

_The voice sparked a memory and she knew she had heard it before. But where had she heard it? She could not quite grasp exactly who the voice belonged to but she knew it was important. _

_The boy skittered past her, head facing resolutely downwards. _

_She glanced down and saw that she _was_ in fact walking for feet touched the floor beneath her – feet in shoes many sizes larger than what she normally wore. As she continued on she realized that her stride was longer as well. It took a little thinking before she finally figured out that the legs and feet doing her walking were not really hers._

_They _were_, however, taking her down a path that she knew intimately and she allowed herself to be pulled along. A hand that was not hers lifted a wand and unlocked the large door to the library, allowing her to slip inside. The door closed silently behind her and she turned. She crossed the library and headed straight for the restricted section.  
_

_The same hand reached up and pulled a book off the shelves. She recognized the book. She had read it at the end of last year after Harry filled them in on what needed to be done. The hand placed the book open upon the desk and the pages fell open to the section on splitting and un-splitting one's soul._

_Something blew across her face. She flinched as she thought for a second it was a tuff of someone's breath. Then she realized that it was more than a breath. Wind that should not have been in the library started blowing around her, picking up enough speed to start whistling. Holding her hair to keep it from lashing her face, she watched as the shelves wobbled under the onslaught. _

_The volume of the wind continued to increase, enough so that it sounded like it was something shrieking in pain. She covered her ears with her hands and ducked her head as papers were pulled off of the bulletin board along with the tacks and flew around her, some managing to cut her face. _

_Just as the sound had gotten loud enough to hurt, it stopped suddenly. The loose papers and tacks fell on the floor. She could still hear the echoes of the wind's scream in the silence. _

_That was when the voice floated through her. It was the same one that had snapped at the boy earlier, familiar yet different, clear yet indistinct. _

"_Help me."_

---

She was awake in an instant. Having spent so much of her time in the library, it took a few moments for her to become aware of the fact that it was very late at night and she was not supposed to be there. The realizations that she was standing in the restricted section and that she was in her pajamas followed closely behind. She looked down and saw it – the book. It was the one she saw every night in her dreams and then when she woke. It sat squarely in the middle of the table in front of the shelf and was opened to the page detailing the Horcrux. She backed up a few steps and looked around. It was probably three or four in the morning and the library was empty of course.

She waved her wand at the book and it folded itself back into its space in the shelves. Hermione rubbed the back of her neck with her hand and moaned. These dreams have been pulling her out of bed for six nights now. It was not the dreams that bothered her so much as having to walk back to her room in the middle of the night barefoot and in pajamas.

It had been a long week since the first day of school. The morning after the welcoming ceremony, Harry had led her and Ron down to the Chamber of Secrets during their free period to pick up some fangs. Apparently it had been Dumbledore's idea and Hermione made a mental note to "thank" the Headmaster the next time she saw him; it had not been a pleasant morning.

In fact, the whole thing had been downright repulsive and creepy. Not only was descent into the Chamber of Secrets unnecessarily dark and ominous but the Chamber itself was rather horrifying.

_They had only their wands to illuminate their way and the ambiance was not helped by the skeleton of the Basilisk in the middle of the room. The place was like some sort of evil tomb. _

_As Harry wandered down the memory lane from hell, she and Ron were left to decide the best way to get the fangs into the charmed bags they had brought. In the end neither of them had wanted to handle the things, even through the magically protected sacks.  
_

_Just as she had picked up a fang with her wand, she felt a chill surround her. She almost dropped the darn thing. The chill crept through her skin and up her spine and she shivered hard for a few seconds. Ron had looked up at the sound of her teeth chattering and she could only give him a confused shrug back. Luckily it stopped within seconds._

_They looked for Harry when they had finished their deed and found him staring at the statue of Slytherin. _

"_What are you thinking?" She left Ron by the door and walked up to stand next to her other best friend. _

"_Just wondering how this school year will end," Harry said. _

"_Well the Chosen One will destroy Lord Voldemort with the help of his trusty sidekicks, of course." She grinned at him, holding up her bag and shaking it, watching the fang bounce inside. _

_Harry grinned back. He turned back to the statue. "It all started with him you know. We're all fighting in his war a thousand years after he died." _

"_He lost last time Harry," she said with conviction, "and he'll lose again. We have Hogwarts on our side." _

"_Besides," Ron said as he came up on Harry's other side, "fellow's a nutter." _

"_Butter," Hermione added automatically. She and Harry both cracked up as Ron looked on, confused. _

"_Muggle thing?"_

"_Yeah." Harry clapped his arm on Ron's shoulder. _

_Ron gave her a sly wink. They had never discussed it but they both considered themselves Harry's cheering up squad when he decided to start brooding. _

"_Let's get out of here," she said, putting an arm through Harry's free one and tugging him away. _

"_Don't have to tell me twice," he mumbled, kicking at the skeleton as they passed by._

---

It had felt a lot better as soon as they made it to Myrtle's bathroom but even then the chill did not completely disappear. It was almost as if some memory of the place still lingered in her heart.

And now the dreams she from her second year had come back, though without the main actor. She wondered at the connection. Unlike the last time around, she had a good idea of who she was dreaming about but could not wrap her mind around the implications. After all, he had been destroyed, right?

Definitely, she assured herself. Every piece of evidence pointed to that. She was probably just losing it from all the stress of attacks and knowing what she did about her forthcoming graduation. It was enough to unnerve most people and sleepwalking was a natural reaction to stress and anxiety.

Hermione slowly made her way back past the library door and towards her Head Girl's room near the Gryffindor Tower. She idly wondered as she walked if Head Boy Draco was asleep. It had been a difficult summer for him. Somehow the two of them had formed a report during his stay at Grimmauld but it started off a little rocky, she remembered with a sigh.

_Hermione was sitting on an armchair in the library studying when Draco Malfoy entered. The past few weeks have not been kind on the young man. His hair was unkempt and__ his clothes were not entirely clean. He had lost a great deal of weight and there was a listless look in his eyes. At the end of the school year he had orchestrated an attack on Hogwarts that failed and his mother and Professor Snape had worked together to get him to safety. Professor Snape died rather mysteriously but Narcissa had been killed quite clearly, publicly and rather surprisingly by her sister on the grounds of Hogwarts. _

"_Granger," he __greeted tonelessly not looking in her direction. He sat on the bench next to the window with a textbook in his lap and just stared out. _

"_Malfoy." She put down her book and looked at him. If he had heard her he did not show it. His brooding reminded her much of Harry after their fifth year – perhaps it just was a natural reaction to losing a parent or parental figure. Malfoy looked far from his usual haughty self as well. He sported a bleak expression and hallowed cheeks everywhere he went. Hermione felt the stirrings of pity watching him. _

"_You've been looking at me like some sort of abandoned Kneazle__ and I don't care for it," Draco spat, startling her. _

"_I'm sorry," she replied quietly. _

"_For your pity or for the fact my mother died to save my life?" _

"_Both."_

"_Well it doesn't help either way, so leave me alone." His voice shook slightly, either out of anger or sadness or perhaps both. _

"_Mrs. Weasley is going to be serving dinner soon, you should probably eat something," she said, getting up to find another study space. He grunted as she closed the door. _

---

_Ginny and Ron and their parents lived at 12 Grimmauld Place with Hermione and Draco with the rest of the Order frequently passing through. Charlie was staying with the newly married Bill and Fleur at Shell Cottage and the twins with their own apartment in London. The latter fact frequently started man__y arguments in the Weasley clan. They were loud and had Molly Weasley on one side and the rest of the family on the other. _

"_But mum, the two most dangerous people in London are living _in_ the apartment, why would they need all those extra security measures?" Ron had asked one night at dinner, earning him a glare from his mother and giggles from Hermione and Ginny. _

_Ginny and Ron spent most of their time in the small kitchen at Grimmauld Place huddled over a radio listening to the quidditch games as they were being broadcast__ or rerun. That left a lot of time for Hermione to start on her NEWTs studying. _

_She and Ginny also sent letters to Harry a few times a week, using Pigwidgeon and Hedwig as couriers. It was his last summer with the Dursleys and his letters had gotten progressively more enthusiastic at the prospect of leaving for good. If he was upset about the death of Professor Snape, he did not show it. _

_Dinner that evening after her little talk with Draco in the library was a quiet affair. Draco himself walked in halfway through and sat down without a word, picking at his food as Molly Weasley fussed over him. _

"_Draco, I don't think it's safe for you to go to Diagon Alley with us next week but I was wondering if there was anything I could pick up for you?" Molly Weasley asked in her most cheerful voice. She was pushing it a little, Hermione thought. _

"_No thank you Mrs. Weasley," he replied politely. _

"_Call me Molly, dear." _

_To her right Hermione caught Ron pretending to throw up. He stopped when he saw her glare. Turning her attention back to Draco, she saw him cover his surprise with a forced smile. _

"_Thank you…Molly." He then resumed his previous activity of pushing his food around his plate. _

"_How bad are the attacks right now?" Ginny asked quietly. _

"_Less than we would expect," her father answered. "Not quite safe enough to just walk into Diagon Alley but Moody and Dumbledore are setting up a team of Aurors at strategic locations so that students can buy their materials on certain days this summer. _

"_What about disappearances and deaths?" Hermione asked, not looking in Draco's direction. _

"_I don't think…" Molly seemed about to cut off the conversation but Mr. Weasley seemed determined for them to know. _

"_Low considering the last few years, but that makes it almost worse since we're almost certain that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is planning something." _

_They ate in silence for a few minutes as the students all absorbed that. _

"_Is Harry coming with us?" Ginny finally asked. _

_Hermione had to hide a smile. Even though Ginny and Harry had broken up at the end of last year due to Harry's reluctance at putting her in the line of fire, they were still on each other's minds all the time. Even if they never got together again, they were undoubtedly now fast friends for life. _

"_Actually that's why we are going on Harry's birthday dear. Headmaster Dumbledore's going to personally bring him to Diagon Alley and we'll bring him back here with us. He will not have to go back to his aunt and uncle's again if he does__n't want to."  
_

"_I can't imagine why he would want to," Ron said, rolling his eyes. _

"_They're family," Hermione snapped, though she did agree with him for the most part. _

"_Yeah, I don't think so." _

"_Harry will be in a good mood," Ginny said __loudly before their back and forth turned into an argument. _

"_Yeah, no kidding, and we'll be able to listen to the Cannons play the Tornados that evening too! Might even be able to convince Charlie to come over." Ron's eyes brightened at the prospect. _

_The conversation then degenerated into quidditch and family for the rest of the meal, allowing Hermione and Draco to eat silently. _

_---_

_Members of the order started showing up later that evening when the students were gathered in the upstairs den. _

"_I wish we had a way to hear what they were saying," Ginny complained, shredding a draft letter to Harry in her hands. _

"_I have a way," Hermione told them. Ron and Ginny immediately moved closer to the couch where Hermione sat. Even Draco leaned forward from where he lounged in the corner. "It's something I picked up from Lavender's _Love's Trials and Tribulations_ catalogue." Hermione blushed a little as she pulled out a little glass cube and placed it on the coffee table. She tapped it three times with her wand. _

"_Nothing's happening." Ron sent her an accusatory glance. _

"_It's a Lover's Wall-fly. I put the other half under the kitchen table but it doesn't activate unless someone there says my name. It's used by people to see what their lovers are saying about them," she explained. _

"_And which lover's opinion were you particularly worried about?" Malfoy's tone was dry but slightly amused. _

_Hermione turned around and rolled her eyes at him, pleased that he was himself enough to make fun of her. "I got it for this purpose actually, and a few others. People often overlook it as something childish but it uses Name Magic and is a lot more powerful than most people suppose. I was amazed it was in the catalogue actually, the rest of it was mostly rubbish. I mean potions that will make someone only speak by serenading, seriously!" _

"_I don't know – might give Weasley a chance to actually bag a girl." _

"_Look Malfoy, I don't _need_ any help…" _

"…_Hermione and Ron graduate?" The cube Hermione had put down had changed colors as Molly Weasley's voice drifted out of it as clearly is if she had been sitting in the room. The students all a few confused looks at the ending of the sentence. _

"_We don't even know if that's what You-Know-Who is planning Molly." _

"_It's the last thing Snape reported to Dumbledore!" Molly's tone was indignant and frightened at the same time. "And now you all say that there's no activity? Clearly He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is planning something big!" _

"_A large scale attack at Harry's graduation does sound in character for Lord Voldemort," Remus said reluctantly, probably hesitant to incite Molly further. In the den, both Ron and Ginny flinched slightly as Hermione and Draco looked exchanged a look at the implications of what was being said. _

"_Don't say his name!" a number of people in the kitchen snapped in unison. _

"_I assure you that we will be doing all we can to end the war before it comes to that Molly." Dumbledore's calm voice floated into the room and his confidence made Hermione feel a little better. _

_The Order did not speak too much longer as orders are given out privately by Dumbledore for security reasons. A few plans floated around for protection for the students and the school once term started but nothing set in stone. _

"_I was able to gather a dozen Aurors with much difficulty for protection duty at Diagon Alley on the last day of July. Luckily a few of the more influential parents stepped in or Scrimgeour might have denied the request altogether. He wants us all across the country being seen, though what we can do in pairs..." Kingsley sounded so tired that Hermione's heart went out to him. _

"_That will be of great help," Dumbledore said gratefully. "I also encourage those of you that can make time to go shopping on that particular day to do so. I shall see you all back here in a fortnight. Have a good evening." _

_Hermione pointed her wand at the cube, shutting it off as sounds of the crowd dispersing filtered through the cube. None of them said anything for a minute. _

"_Well…bugger." _

"_I loathe admitting it but I agree with Weasley." Draco looked more thoughtful than worried. "It was an inelegantly expressed sentiment but apt nonetheless." _

_Ron's lack of a response was a testament to how disconcerted he was. _

"_I wonder just how bad an attack will be if Lord Voldemort needs to spend a whole year planning it," Hermione wondered out loud. _

_The four of them sat in the den for a good fifteen minutes in silence thinking on the possibilities. Finally Draco got up to go to bed. _

"_Well," he said in a fake chipper tone, hand on the knob, "at least we know that graduation will be exciting." _

---

_In the end, after many hours of shouting, Molly decided not to let Ginny go with them to London. Hermione had promised to get the list of things she needed and decided that she might as well pick up some of Draco's books as well. Draco had no money now that Lucius had disowned him from prison. Pending his trial, the elder Malfoy still had control of the family assets. Luckily Hermione's parents exchanged too much every year and she had enough saved at Gringotts to more than pay for both their supplies. _

_She could not quite explain why she felt that she should be buying Draco stuff. Certainly it just seemed like the right thing to do.  
_

_Harry gave her a look as she picked up two copies of their new History of Magic textbook. _

_She sighed. "He lost his mother Harry, you of all people…" _

"_I'm not saying anything," he interrupted quickly, arms up in defense. _

_It was great to have both her friends with her again. They hit Gringotts and then the usual suspects, stopping for a few minutes to look at Mr. Ollivander's still empty shop. It was now completely boarded up and the new first-years had to settle for the Wands Warehouse down the street. _

_The day was overcast but it was not due to rain until four thirty-seven if the wizard on the radio was to be believed. That left them over an hour to get new robes and they decided to stop at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes for a break. _

"_I hope you don't expect Malfoy to be able to fit into your robes too Hermione," Harry said as they browsed one of the candy aisles. _

_She rolled her eyes at him. "I was thinking that he might fit into one of yours," she grinned. "Or maybe we should use Ron's instead – you'll probably need another growth spurt to go to catch up." She ducked as Harry threw the first object he reached for at her. _

_Fred, she thinks, caught the florid chunk of clay in midair. "You don't want to be throwing these around Harry!" he said, turning and chucking it at George who was on a ladder. _

_It exploded into a cloud of dust on George's shoulder. When it cleared, George, to put it politely, had makeup befitting a French whore._

_Hermione and Harry both doubled over laughing. _

_The three of them had gotten some of the less dangerous candy and were wandering back towards Madam Malkins slowly. It was then that Hermione happened to turn and look into a small side alley just in time to see an Auror apparate away. She stopped walking and stared. The Aurors had been walking around all day though not doing much more than making all the students and their parents feel better. The Alley had been more crowded earlier but there were still a significant number of families still wandering around and there was no reason for any of the Ministry appointed security to leave. _

_Harry and Ron both turned and looked her. _

"_That Auror just disapparated," she said worriedly. _

_  
"What?" Harry looked around confused. "I thought they were supposed to be here till five."  
_

"_They are," she said, pulling her wand down her sleeve a little with her other hand so it would be easier to reach. "Come on, let's go find another Auror and tell them." _

_They ran from one side of Diagon Alley to the other before being forced to admit that the Aurors seemed to have completely disappeared. _

"_This is not good," Ron stated unnecessarily._

_Just as he said it, Tonks' bubblegum hair came into their view. She had come out of a small side alley and immediately went over to them. _

"_Where are the Aurors?" all three asked in unison. _

"_We've gotten called back to the Ministry," the older girl said, clearly worried. _

"_Called back?" Harry said in disbelief. _

"_There's been an attack on the Ministry of Magic and Scrimgeour called everyone back. Kingsley is checking it out now but I said I'd stay here." _

"_Were you the only one that did?" Hermione asked. _

"_Yep."  
_

"_What…how…" Ron seemed stunned. _

"_The Aurors all have to answer to the Minister of Magic," Hermione said, in case he had forgotten. "Come on; let's go find your parents." _

"_My parents?" _

"_There could be trouble; the attack on the Ministry could have been a diversion. Voldemort must know that it's my birthday."_

_"Don't say his name," Ron snapped half-heartedly at Harry, looking around for his family. _

"_I wish Dumbledore hadn't left so soon to go back to Hogwarts," Harry said with a frown. _

"_If we can find Charlie, we can send him for the Headmaster," Hermione said as she scanned every passerby for flaming red hair._

"_Good idea, I'm going to try and find Remus. He's around here somewhere," Tonks said before running up the Alley. _

_It did not take them long to find Charlie and they sent him to Hogwarts at once. "I'll be back with Dumbledore in a jiffy," he had promised before disapparating. _

_The three of them looked around after he left. All three of them were fingering their wands and shooting occasional uneasy looks at each other. _

"_So what do you think are the chances of the Ministry attack being a diversion and an attack on Diagon Alley being the real thing?" Ron finally asked. _

_If Hermione had said that she was not expecting the loud bang followed by a lot of screaming, she would have been lying. Even so, she flinched before spinning to face the direction it came from. Of course it would be Knockturn Alley. _

"_Good, I'd say." Harry looked around and saw a small half-wall in front of a shop which he gestured them to, diving behind it himself. _

_Hermione followed but Ron seemed to hesitate. _

"_I'm going to find my parents and tell them," he said with worry. He pointed ahead. "I think they're at the Junk Shop browsing for muggle rubbish." _

_Harry nodded. "Okay go, and tell any Order members you come across!" _

_The two of them had a clear view of the entrance to Knockturn Alley when they peered over the wall. Hermione took Harry's cauldron of stuff and put it with hers behind a crate where they were hiding. They could see people scattering behind them but there were some who were frantically running around looking for family members. _

"_Harry there are still a lot of people around," she said softly. _

"_I know." He gave her a reassuring look before something caught his eyes. _

_Expecting it or not, seeing ten Death Eaters walk up the path was like something out of a nightmare. They all wore long black robes and grotesque steel masks. More screaming ensued behind her at their appearance. The Death Eaters raised their wands as one and started firing curses at anything that moved. _

_Hermione felt Harry tense beside her and she put her arm on his, looking around. "We can't just attack, we need a distraction." _

"_They're shooting _Unforgivables_!" _

_Hermione could actually hear a couple of _Avada Kadavra_s being fired off and she prayed that they missed their targets. Her eyes landed on a cage on the table out front of the Menagerie a few meters behind them. "I've got it Harry; you get ready to attack and then run. There's a pretty good chance that they'll come after you if they see you, just wait for the distraction." _

"_Distraction?" he asked. His confusion turned into a wry grin as he saw what she had grabbed with both hands.  
_

"_Pixies?"_

_Hermione grinned at him. "Everything I know I learned from Professor Lockhart," she declared with fake pride. She launched her cage of freshly-caught Cornish Pixies at the group of Death Eaters with a quiet _reducto_ and watched with relish as pandemonium ensued. _

"_I almost feel sorry for them," Harry whispered as the pixies did their work of pulling at hair, poking at eyes and dropping wands every which way. The Death Eaters were taking the brunt of it as almost everyone else had taken cover. _

"_Ready?" Hermione asked. Her hand tightened over her wand. _

_Harry nodded, and jumped up. "_Expelliarmus_!" he yelled. He could not have gotten their immediate attention faster if he had cast ten Unforgivables simultaneously. _

_Hermione yelled "_Stupify_!" a few times, pointing her wand at the general group before grabbing Harry and pulling him back. The Death Eaters had batted or cursed most of the pixies away by then and were coming towards them. _

"_Run." Harry pushed her ahead of him as they both ran down the Alley. _

_Curses flew past them and broke things and Hermione had to shield her face with her arm so that she would not get cut by any sharp pieces. _

_They both saw the group of first and second years at the same time in the distance. Without discussing it they both dove into the first side alley they came to. It was empty except for a magical dumpster at the side. _

"WingardiumLeviosa_!" Harry yelled as they ran in, lifting the bright red steel dumpster and dropping it in the middle of the small alley. They both ran behind it and were looking around their respective sides. _

_The screaming was getting louder. "I think they're coming for us," she said with an eye-roll. _

_She was not entirely correct however, as only five Death Eaters appeared in the entrance to the alley they held. Hermione quickly whispered an immovable charm on their cover and exchanged a glance with Harry across the back of it. He nodded slowly. _

_Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath before ducking out from behind the steel and shooting a quick _stupify_ followed by a _reducto_. Half-a-dozen curses zoomed past her as she quickly withdrew. _

_  
Harry managed to take one down from his side while they had focused on her. _

_As she looked out to fire another curse she saw one being hit from the side. One of the three remaining turned to Ron's voice. Now that was better odds. _

_Harry moved completely out of cover and shouted the spell that he had learned from Snape's old textbook. The Death Eater fell with a scream. _

_Hermione's angry "_Expelliarmus_" sent his gawking friend flying back and hitting the shop at the other side of the Alley, wand making a long arc to her. She batted it aside. _

_The one facing Ron had realized just how outnumbered he was at this point. He shot a few rapid curses at her and Harry before dragging his bleeding friend into the small alley with them. They dove out of line of sight. _

_Hermione was about to engage the Death Eater again when she realized that the fight beyond their small alley had been heating up. She could make out a lot of new voices in the fray and one very old and very familiar one. _

_Dumbledore's angry shouting filled the children with relief but clearly had a different effect on the Death Eater. He threw a _stupify_ in Ron's direction and a _flipendo_ at their dumpster before grabbing his injured friend and disapparating away. _

_Ron ran in and Harry and Hermione both walked out to meet him. Hermione lowered her wand as she studied her friends. She and Harry both had some scrapes and Ron had a minor cut on his face. _

_Just then an Auror poked his head into the alley. She scanned the area, eyes passing over the trio, and shouted "Clear here!" over her shoulder. _

_Hermione sat down on the paved stones, wand still in hand. Her legs did not want to support her body anymore. _

"_Wow." Harry was still on his feet, and looked out into the open area of Diagon Alley. "They've gone from being impossible to find to bloody everywhere." _

"_That was fun," she said, leaning back on her elbows and looking at her friends. "Let's please not do that again." _

_All three of them were silent as Harry trudged back over to where his friends were resting. _

"_Oh hey, I just remembered," Harry said, collapsing on the ground besides her, "Dumbledore told me to tell you that you're Head Girl. Congratulations." _

"_Good job 'Mione!" Ron said from where he was propped up against the wall of the alley. He was still puffing slightly. _

_She just dropped her head down to the ground. The green Dark Mark hung over Diagon Alley and she closed her eyes at the implications_

---

_It turned out that a third-year Ravenclaw had been unlucky enough to catch a stray Avada Kedavra and another parent had gotten hit with one shielding their child from the Death Eaters. There were a few people with some minor injuries and others with more serious ones but they were repaired quickly by the people who came in from St. Mungos. _

_The students at Hogwarts had a memorial service for the dead boy over the weekend and afterwards she sat alone at the side of the lake for hours until her friends finally found her. It had been the same place that she had spoken with Tom in that one dream in her second year. The fury at such useless deaths had mounted as the sun rose and set on the horizon and she almost wished that he was back so she could kill him again. _

Without quite knowing why, Hermione found herself at the foot of the Astronomy Tower when her musings ended. She could have sworn she was heading back towards the Gryffindor Tower but here she was. She did not think she could get to sleep soon anyway so she started the climb up to the look-out. Perhaps the air would do her good.

When she reached the top she realized that it was the right decision. It was beautiful tonight. She walked to the rail and leaned over it, closing her eyes as the wind blew wisps of her hair across her face.

"The stars are exceptionally bright this evening are they not Miss Granger?" The Headmaster's voice came from right behind her and startled Hermione so much that she might have tumbled off of the tower had he not grabbed the back of her robes when he started to speak.

She took a moment to catch her breath. "Yes, they look lovely," she said, not bothering to even glance up. Something about his voice sent flags flying up masts in her head, and she could not help but feel that Albus Dumbledore with an agenda might be more dangerous than any Death Eater. She peered at him from the corner of her eyes but even twinkling, his eyes gave away nothing.

"Was there something you wanted Headmaster?" she asked finally.

"Can an old man not just enjoy a lovely evening in the company of a remarkable young lady?" he said with a smile.

Now she _knew_ something was wrong. "No, seriously sir, what did you need?"

"Well now that you mentioned it," he said, taking a small candy out of his pocket and un-wrapping it, "there is a small task that you could assist me with." He popped the candy in his mouth and pulled out another, offering it to her.

She shook her head, even more suspicious now than she normally is of Albus Dumbledore. "What kind of small task, sir?"

"Oh just a small thing," he said calmly, "something that you are uniquely qualified for."

His repetition and evasiveness was making her very, very worried. Whatever it was, it would be bad. However she could not help but be curious at what she would be 'uniquely qualified' for and it pushed the thoughts of inevitable doom aside.

"What do you mean Headmaster?"

"It is closely related to your most recent nighttime activities."

"What activities?" she asked. She knew of course, but she had no idea how he did.

"I believe that you might have been having odd dreams since you went down to the Chamber of Secrets last week?"

"How did you…" She was flabbergasted. A part of her mind said reasonably that she should not have been surprised after having heard all of Harry's stories concerning Dumbledore.

"I've been following your evening escapees, so to speak, and making sure that you did not fall down stairs and the like."

So many questions occurred to her at that point that she was not even sure which to ask. Finally she settled on the most troubling. "Are you saying that you knew I was going to be having dreams?"

"About Mr. Riddle? Yes I suspected as much."

Her jaw dropped.

"It was always rather curious to me exactly why Lucius Malfoy had given the diary to Miss Weasley back in the summer of your first year," he continued, oblivious to her distress. "Horcuxes have a will of their own and a very powerful one at that. Mr. Malfoy could only have acted on its will or with it after having had the diary in his possession for so long. It seems strange that after so many years the diary happened to be in Flourish and Blotts on that day at that time."

"Well it was so Ginny…"

"Yes perhaps it was Miss Weasley," he said, interrupting her, "or perhaps not." He gave her a scrutinizing look. "Certainly the part of Lord Voldemort's soul that we know as Tom Riddle was being drawn to somebody at the book store, but it did not necessarily have to be the youngest Weasley. The interconnection of certain souls is a phenomenon as old as magic itself. People with souls closely linked will find one another though time and space, never aware of exactly how or why."

"Souls…drawn…" she said slowly. Then she realized he was saying. It felt like the floor had disappeared beneath and she had to stop herself from physically staggering against the rail.

Professor Dumbledore seemed completely undisturbed by the tremendous revelation he just imparted and even managed to have another candy as he waited for her to regain herself.

"You're saying that Tom Riddle and I are soul mates?" she asked finally, incredulously.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "In a certain sense yes, although though perhaps not in the way you are thinking of the term."

She could not imagine what her face looked like at that moment but it would probably have made a great picture. "Soul mates?" she asked again, shaking her head as if that would negate what she was saying.

"Perhaps you would know more about your connection than I," he said calmly.

"Well, I did have some dreams about him in second year," she said slowly as she deduced where he was going. "I mean, back when Ginny, but, I can't..." she trailed off, totally unable to find any words.

"Tom Marvolo Riddle found you in your dreams Miss Granger. Did that not strike you as odd?"

"Well, odd sure, but, okay, I'm still having dreams. That can't still be Tom Riddle's soul because it was destroyed when Harry stabbed the diary."

"Souls are intrinsic truths of the world. You can rip them and scatter them with immense difficulty, but there is no power that could destroy a soul." His voice had taken a more serious tone and she couldn't help but stare.

"Are you saying that Tom Riddle is still out there in tiny pieces?"

"His soul was dispersed in the Chamber of Secrets and had stayed there for the past few years. Now he's more around here in tiny pieces." Dumbledore sounded amused as he waved at the air around her.

Hermione could only stare.

"If his soul is drawn to you Miss Granger, which I believe that it is, it would have followed you out of the Chamber last week. No doubt it is the source of your current sleepwalking predicament."

She had to open and close her mouth three times before she was able to speak again. "I still don't understand Professor. So I'm haunted. What does that have to do with your 'small task'?" She could not keep the irony out of her voice. If she had been somewhat worried before about what he was going to ask of her, she was more than a little terrified now.

"You adapt to new ideas quickly Miss Granger," he said. "As it turns out, Lord Voldemort's Horcuxes could be anywhere, and we do not have a way of finding the other three, not counting Nagini. I'm afraid that there is a real urgency to the matter."

"You think he's going to attack at graduation," she said, realizing finally why he was coming to her for help.

A heavy and aged look passed over the Headmaster's face. "I think that we need to destroy Lord Voldemort before June at any cost."

"Any cost?" she repeated, feeling her stomach drop.

"Most costs certainly," he amended, smiling a little. "That is where you come in."

"Of course it is."

His eyes twinkled at her resignation. "It occurs to me that while Tom Riddle was the first to be pulled from Lord Voldemort, he would still have a good idea of where the other parts of his souls are."

"Okay?" she said, feeling slightly sick since she could make an accurate guess of where he was going now.

"What if I told you that you could gather up the pieces of his soul and put them back into a new journal?"

"Why on Earth would I want to do that sir? You're asking me to undo what Harry did four and a half years ago. That's…" insane, she wanted to say.

"It would not be easy, I admit, but I believe the advantages outweigh the costs."

"Wouldn't fixing his Horcruxes just make Voldemort impossible to kill again?"

"Fortunately, it doesn't work like that. You see, the diary was the Horcrux and Voldemort's anchor to our world and Harry has destroyed it. If you put Tom Riddle into a new book, he would just be an incomplete soul completely separate from Lord Voldemort himself."

"So let me get this straight, Headmaster," she could not have kept the disbelief out of her voice if she had tried. "You want me to repair, for lack of a better word, _Tom Riddle_ and somehow get him to help us destroy Lord Voldemort?"

"Precisely."

She stared at him for a good minute, desperately looking for a sign that might indicate that he was trying to pull one over on her. She did not find any. "And what exactly am I supposed to offer him in return for his assistance?"

"Life, Miss Granger. Life."

"At the expense of his other self," she argued. "Why would he agree to that?"

"There is no guarantee that he will of course, but I believe that once separated from the rest of his soul, Tom Riddle might be an entirely different sort of person. After all, there was a reason Lord Voldemort had chosen to divest this particular part of his soul first."

"I don't think he's going to be that different," Hermione said, shaking her head. "He tried to kill me, you know. Our last conversation in second year didn't quite end amicably and the next day I was attacked by the Basilisk with Penelope."

At least the Headmaster had the decency to look slightly troubled by her revelation.

"And for him to regain his life, wouldn't he have to absorb the rest of his soul back, after we dust the other Horcruxes?"

"That would be required, yes," he said, nodding for her to continue.

"Well, repairing a soul is the opposite of breaking one apart. It requires a true selfless act to balance the heinous one of taking a life. There's no way that Tom Riddle can get back one, let alone six parts of his soul."

Dumbledore gave her an amused look. "You have been sneaking books from the Restricted Section."

"All the time," she said simply.

"I do not need to tell you that you are indeed correct, and that there is a good chance Riddle would be aware of this fact as well."

"Then why would he agree?"

"You and I both know that a truly selfless act is one of the most difficult things in this world to achieve. I assure you that Tom Riddle would not understand this. He would believe that once the Horcruxes are destroyed, he could just save a wounded animal or give money to the poor and retrieve the pieces of his soul." He paused and gave her one of his looks. "It would not be to our disadvantage to encourage that notion."

"You want me to try and trick Lord Voldemort?" she asked, scrunching up her face in distaste and disbelief.

"Of course not Miss Granger, although it would be nice if you were able to somehow trick Tom Riddle Jr." he replied calmly. "The book that will enable you to repair what Harry destroyed four years ago will be in your room tomorrow, in case you should wish to make the attempt."

He turned to leave.

"Headmaster," she called hesitantly, not sure if she wanted to ask the question. "What should I tell Harry?"

He gave her one of his typical searching looks. "I think, Miss Granger, that all this would be better kept to ourselves for the time being. I believe you could imagine what Harry's reaction to the idea of working with Mr. Riddle would be."

She nodded slowly, knowing he was right but not liking the idea of keeping things from Harry and Ron. "Will we tell them someday?"

"They will have to know one day not too far into the future, I assure you." He gave her a slight smile. "Now I believe it is time for me to turn in and perhaps you should make the effort to do so yourself sometime soon."

"Goodnight Headmaster," she said to his back as he reached the top of the steps. Her mind was a mess of thoughts that she was trying to set into some kind of order.

"Perhaps you should come out and enjoy the breeze Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said negligently as he started down. "It's a lovely evening."

He was gone before Draco had fully dislodged himself from his hiding place behind a cabinet. Hermione looked curiously behind him.

"That looks to be a rather snug fit. What on Earth were you doing there?" She tried not to laugh at the image of Draco Malfoy, scrunched up and hiding in a manner befitting, well, her and her friends.

He tried to look nonchalant for a second before giving up and shrugging. "I was just up here thinking when I heard you," he said as he joined her at the railing, looking out over the lake. "I was going to come out before Dumbledore arrived. I'm glad I didn't though, or I might have missed that fun, fun, horrible conversation."

"I hope you enjoyed it." She tried to keep the terseness out of her tone but Dumbledore had set her on edge.

"I think the old man has finally gone bonkers, to be honest Granger."

"Well," she said carefully, torn between her loyalty to the old man and the insanity of the plan he had laid before her feet, "I don't really think he's _crazier_ than he normally is."

Draco shot her a look that said clearly that he did not believe her words at all. "Do you want me to summarize his plan so you can hear it again?"

"No, that will not be necessary." Hermione rolled her eyes at his smug expression. She did not want to think about the plan at the moment; she did not really want to think about it ever. "So what were you brooding about up here?"

"My family, so to speak."

She frowned, looking at him to ascertain his mood. "That can't have been pleasant."

"Oh but it was," he said, blue eyes glittering. "I was thinking about what I'd do once I get my hands on Bellatrix."

"That woman," Hermione said with true hatred, "sure has a way of making enemies. Now it's a race between you, Harry and Neville to see who'll get your dear Aunt Bella first." She laughed without humor. "May the best man win?"

"Oh I plan to," he replied blackly.

"Is she really insane?"

"Oh yes, she would give Lord Voldemort a run for his money." Draco paused. "Perhaps that's why they get along so well."

Hermione shuddered slightly, and not from the wind. She looked out across the grounds to the mountains in the distance, not really seeing any of it.

"Do you think it will work?" she asked finally.

"Dumbledore's ludicrous plan?"

"Yes that one."

"Who's to know? It's absolutely insane, it has no precedent and it depends on a person who grew up to become Lord Voldemort."

"Okay, so success is difficult to predict at this point, but do you think it could make things worse?"

Draco stopped to think about that one. "It's hard to say. I think that neither of them will be willing to share power once they have it, even with another incarnation of his self. He's psychotic that way. So with any luck you'll end up with just one at the end. As to if it could make things worse…" Draco trailed off.

She sighed. "It's like pitting the Devil against the Devil. Does it really matter who wins?"

"At least the younger one will be sane," Draco pointed out, "or at least saner."

"And is sanity a desirable trait in a Dark Lord?" She asked the question as a joke but had to stop to really think about it. He obviously did not know either and they stood in amicable silence for a few minutes, both pondering the best level of crazy for an evil villain.

"So are you going to do it?" he asks her at last. He turned so that he was leaning against his side, looking directly at her. She turned her head to meet his serious gaze.

"Yes." She wondered if she should tell him the rest of her plan. He of all people would probably understand and agree with her. "If it works," she continued clearly, looking directly in his eyes, "and if Tom Riddle does manage to destroy Lord Voldemort, I am going to kill him."

Draco raised his eyebrow in surprise, either reacting to what she said or how she said it, or perhaps both. "Kill Tom Riddle?"

She nods slowly. "There isn't a wizard or witch in England who would call it a crime."

"You're probably right about that."

"I might need help." Her eyes moved down to his Head Boy badge before returning to his face. "In case I can't do it."

He gave her a long even look and nodded. "I may not have been able to kill Dumbledore, but I imagine that killing a future Dark Lord will be much easier."

"Dumbledore can say what he wants, but I don't believe that Tom Riddle will be any safer to the world than his counterpart," she said, looking up to the bright stars. "If there is going to be another Lord Voldemort, I shall not have it on my head."

---

A/N: The idea of magic based on names isn't mine. I read it in passing in a HG/SS fic a long time ago. If you know the fic, I wouldn't mind reading it again!

EDIT: Thanks for everyone who's reviewing! All 7 of ya! *hugs*

I get why these chapters aren't getting many nibbles and I hope things change when I introduce the "hero". I'm a fledgling writer experimenting and playing around so if you like a character or a scene etc., please say something or I might accidentally write it out. I am going to be making some changes to form, pacing and such over the next few chapters to see what works better. Please be patient with me!

Next chapter (An Unlikelier Ally) will be posted by let's say Saturday evening. Some more Draco, some Ginny and a lot of Tom Riddle.

EDIT: The next chapter has been delayed to Monday Evening due to Tom's character being a bitch to write. Thanks for your patience.


	3. Chapter 2: An Unlikelier Ally

An Unlikelier Ally

A/N: So this is like two days late and I blame it almost completely on the difficulty of writing Tom Riddle. I had to do a near-complete character study before I felt comfortable enough to really start penning Tom (figuratively - no pens were harmed in the making of this chapter). A few questions came into my mind as I was writing this chapter, and they're fun questions that end up being at least somewhat relevant.

1. Why does Hannibal Lecter love Clarice Starling? It's not exactly the same type of situation here but I believe the answer applies.

2. What might Slytherin and later Riddle have against muggles in the first place to not want to be tainted by them?

3. What would Tom Riddle think of the Lord Voldemort from the Harry's 4th-7th year? (that will be important later on in the story)

4. What is Tom Riddle/Lord Voldemort afraid of besides death and why?

Just a few fun questions to consider. Feel free to guess in a review or something. I'll give you my own answers as I write the story.

---

The library book sat on her bed and mocked her as she entered her room.

Hermione sighed and dropped her bag. She had read the book cover to cover at least a dozen times since she had gotten it a week ago and she was not even close to wanting to try _it_.

She looked past that book to the little leather book on her bedside table that she had found it on the weekend's trip to Hogsmeade. It was in a tiny store students used to buy supplies they had forgotten from home and did not want to be yelled at by their parents to have it sent over called _Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. _As far as Hermione knew, Neville had a permanent tab there.

The little book had fallen off the shelves when she pulled the first journal out. It was about the size of her hand, made of forest green leather, and bound with silver string. When she saw it she almost wanted to cry. It was like providence, if Hermione Granger were to believe in such a thing.

It was a beautiful little diary, she had to admit as she picked it up from the side of her bed and put it on the small desk in front of her window along with the book Dumbledore had left her.

She sat and folded her arms, dropping her head on them and studying books in an entirely different manner than she usually did. From the side they just looked like books and books were always such a comfort to her. They were good friends and stout companions of a sort entirely different from Harry and Ron and the idea that these books could harm her was distinctly unsettling.

She admitted it to herself then, in the small Head Girl's room hung with Gryffindor colors, that she was afraid.

When Harry had told her what Slughorn did back when Tom Riddle was a student, she wanted to be angry. But she could not be because there was _something _about that boy that made you want to stare, to listen, to _tell_.

Most of the people in the world are just people and when someone comes along that is really special, you know that they are destined for great things.

Destiny, fate, and providence. Hermione Granger did not believe in any of these things. If she were to be truly honest, she did not even completely believe in Harry's prophecy. How could anyone, let alone _Trelawney_, predict what would happen years into the future? And yet it seems as if something in the universe wanted her to follow this path, to bring back Tom Riddle.

She sighed. _Soul mates_, she thought angrily as she pushed herself back from her desk, _I'm supposed to above that poppycock._

On the way to dinner, she realized what she needed to do before she could face the man who would become Lord Voldemort - who she needed to speak to.

_I'm going to determine my own future and no one else, not Tom Riddle, not fate, not even Dumbledore is going to do it for me, _she decided as she walked into the Hall.

_---_

Hermione asked Ginny to her room after dinner was over. Something about her expression must have made Ginny accept immediately.

It was not the first time Ginny had visited Hermione in her room and she sat herself down on the bed and looked at her friend. "Is something wrong Hermione?"

Hermione just pointed to the two books on the desk.

Ginny stiffened almost immediately.

Hermione sighed and brought the books over. "I know you don't like diaries in the first place Gin, but this is really the worst possible diary there could be."

"What do you mean?" the other girl asked as she ran her fingers over the bound book without actually touching it.

"Well, Dumbledore is…insane and he wants me to," Hermione could not even get out the words without wanting to laugh hysterically, "find-Tom-Riddle-and-put-him-back-in-that-book." She had strung the last part of the sentence together but apparently Ginny was a good listener because she jumped like a live wire.

Ginny threw herself away from the two books and stood up. She turned to Hermione with an outraged expression. "WHAT? You can't be serious! That's crazy! Insane!"

"I know! I know Ginny!" Hermione put her hands on Ginny's shoulders and led her to the desk chair, sitting the younger girl down with difficulty.

"It's crazy Hermione…" Ginny said again, with less anger.

"I know! This is not my idea. Believe me, if I thought that we were well on our way to getting Voldemort before…" Hermione trailed off, frowning when Ginny did not show any reaction to You-Know-Who's real name.

"Graduation," the red-head murmured numbly.

"And now I need you to help me." Hermione sat herself on the foot of her bed and looked at Ginny, who seemed to be going through some sort of shock.

"You're going to do it?" Ginny's eyes were so pained and worried that Hermione winced.

"Yes, with your help." Hermione saw the flicker of alarm that crossed Ginny's face at that statement. "Not to talk to him or interact with him, I assure you. But I need to know what he's like and how to deal with him. He's so dangerous and you know more about him than anybody."

Ginny reluctantly stood back up and walked over. Hermione tossed both books over the side of the bed and onto the ground so the younger girl could sit beside her.

"You-Kn…Lord Voldemort," Ginny shuddered as she spoke the name, "is just a child throwing a tantrum. We fear him only because of the raw power he holds and the people who follow him."

Hermione put her arm around the younger girl as Ginny paused and swallowed.

"Tom Riddle is not Lord Voldemort. He's a schemer, a manipulator who'll size you up and tell you exactly what you want to hear. He'll attack you from the side so you won't even see it coming." Ginny had never sounded this broken in all the time Hermione's known her.

"Ginny," Hermione said, almost regretting her decision to talk to the younger girl.

"No, I want to tell you. You have to know. He's patient you see, and he'll wait until you believe that he's everything you want and that's when he'll use your trust to destroy you." Ginny's expression was dazed, as if she were watching a memory take place. "All I can tell you is that you must never trust his words."

Hermione frowned at Ginny's statement. She knew of course, but hearing someone else say it made it more ominous and _real_. "Thanks, Ginny." She gave her another squeeze.

Ginny closed her eyes for a moment and then stood up. "I think I want to be alone for a while," she said quietly.

"Ginny, wait." Hermione's words halted the other girl as she reached the portrait. "If you tell me I can't do this, I won't."

"I don't know if you can." The youngest Weasley turned around. "I have this theory – the people who are least able to deal with really smart people are people who are really smart themselves."

"You don't think I'll be able to handle Riddle."

"No." Ginny paused before meeting Hermione's eyes. "And I don't think he'll be able to handle you either. He can destroy you Hermione; _never_ forget that and you might have a fighting chance."

Hermione pondered that as Ginny disappeared out into the hallway. Her gaze shifted back to the journal. One thing is for sure, she thought to herself, I can't let Tom Riddle get the upper hand at any point in time.

Now that she had an idea as to what she might do, she went hunting for help.

---

Hermione stopped Draco as he was heading to his final class of the day and pulled him aside.

"What can I do for you, my fellow partner-in-crime?" he asked, grinning as her jaw dropped.

"What's wrong with you?" She thwapped him on the arm.

"Oh please, no one's listening to me, they're all just watching us for sexual tension." He smirked at a lower year student passing by.

"I have to get to class so I don't have time to listen to you stand here pretending to be funny. Can you meet me on the quidditch pitch at midnight?"

"Sounds exciting. Should I bring my own sacrificial goat or will they be provided?"

She stared at him for a second. "What kind of sick meetings do you have with people in the middle of the night?" She regretted saying that the second it came out of her mouth.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Draco flirtatious grin did not completely disguise his satisfaction at her walking into that one.

Hermione sighed. "No perverse rituals Draco, I just want to talk privately."

"And we can't do that in the school?" He raised an eyebrow.

"You never know who might be lurking around," she said.

"Under an invisibility cloak perhaps?"

"Got you often enough," she said. His answering frown was so funny that she could not help winking as she walked past him towards Transfiguration. She had almost rounded the corner when she heard him call her name.

"No Granger," he said loudly enough for everyone in the area to hear, "I will not meet you for a clandestine rendezvous in the dungeons tonight!"

Everyone in the hallway missed a step and froze. First years to seventh years stared between the two. Someone snickered.

Hermione turned and gawked at him. Her wand came up almost of its own volition.

"You're pretty enough but much too violent for me," he yelled as he ducked behind some students and down a side passage.

She stood, wand pointed at the spot he had occupied, and glared for a good minute. People started moving again but mostly away from her. One second year made a one-eighty turn right in front of her. Students that had to pass her did so reluctantly and hugging the walls.

"I'm going to get him for that," she said finally to no one in particular. She shook her head and made her way to class.

---

She was sure that Draco would be coming by broom but she had no desire to hone her abysmal flying skills in the middle of the night. She ended up borrowing Harry's cloak while he was at dinner so that she would not have to follow the forest to stay hidden.

She hoped that he had not planned any adventures himself for tonight. Both she and Ron had leave to borrow Harry's stuff whenever but she would have a hard time explaining to her best friend without telling some sort of lie, and she hated lying to Harry.

Hermione walked to the middle of the quidditch pitch before dropping her bag and the cloak beside her. It was a little eerie to be here without people in the stands or zooming overhead but it did provide a certain amount of privacy. Even if someone were skulking around the stands, they would not be able to see what she was doing very clearly or hear their conversation without coming onto the field itself.

She raised her wand when she saw the cloaked figure fly in against the dimly lit sky. Only when Draco was a few meters away and pushed back his hood did she lower it again.

"Fancy seeing you in a place like this," Draco said with a grin as he landed in front of her.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Okay, we're in the middle of the pitch in the middle of the night, can we save the chitchat for prefect meetings or something?"

"Your wish is my command." Draco made an elegant though exaggerated bow. Hermione smacked him.

"I want to ask you about Dumbledore's plan – you know, Tom Riddle?"

"I vaguely seem to recall hearing something about that. But what could you possibly need from me when you have an oh-so-special, spiritual connection with Riddle yourself?"

Hermione glared and raised her wand again. Draco quickly pushed her wrist aside.

"Sorry, go ahead," he said, raising his arms in surrender.

"I'm trying to figure out my approach."

"Your approach?"

"You know – a strategy to trick him into doing what I want."

"There's nothing better than a Gryffindor trying to be a Slytherin, except maybe a Gryffindor trying to be a better one than the heir of Slytherin." Draco rolled his eyes.

"Okay, why don't you do it then? You can talk to the child of evil and be friends with him and I'll stand and watch and make inappropriate jokes."

Draco laughed. "Alright, alright, let me hear this grand plan."

"Well I was thinking," she said slowly, grateful he seemed to be listening seriously, "Tom Riddle likes to be in control and get his way. Maybe I could pretend to go along with him, you know, play dark."

Draco doubled over from laughing.

"What?" she asked.

He had to reign in his mirth before he could speak. "I think you could no more pretend to be dark than I can pretend to be a house-elf."

Hermione frowned at him. "You're probably right about that, after all, house-elves are such noble, honest and hardworking creatures."

"Don't get your knickers in a knot." He rolled his eyes. "I'm just saying that you might want to seriously consider plan B."

"Well plan B was just to be as abrasive as I possibly can."

"So you mean be yourself?"

Hermione glared at him.

"Because I'm not sure that even Tom Riddle Jr. deserves as cruel a fate as that," Draco continued.

"He's used to getting his way and if I just never let him gain any momentum, it might throw him off enough…" she trailed off as Draco rolled his eyes again.

"What a typically Gryffindor mentally – with him or against him."

"And what do you suggest oh brilliant and devious Slytherin?" she asked, getting cross at the mocking look on his face.

"He expects you to be a Gryffindor. If you acted like a Slytherin, he would be on guard for anything you might do. If you acted like a Gryffindor, and thought a little like a Slytherin, you might have a chance of outwitting him should it come to that."

Hermione mulled that over quickly. "You know," she said with a small smile, "you're a lot smarter than you look."

"Now that's not cool Granger," Draco said, clearly taken aback, "say what you want about my intelligence but leave my looks alone."

Hermione laughed and knelt to open her bag, pulling candles and charms out.

Draco muttered a curse and backed up a few steps. "You said no perverse rituals!" he accused.

"I lied."

"Was that why we had to come out here?"

"We probably could've just talked in the Room of Requirement otherwise. This ritual needs to be under the evening sky because there's some sort of connection to starlight."

"Right." Draco smacked his palm against his forehead. Then his curiosity got the better of him. "Why starlight?"

"I think it's because this process plays on the idea of the unlimited and in the night sky we not only get the light of one sun but of infinitely many suns, corresponding to the infinitely many parts Tom Riddle's soul is in out here."

"And we can't keep him that way?"

"Nope." Hermione shook her head, not any happier about this than he was.

"I always knew you would be the death of me Hermione Granger."

"Relax you doofus; I just need you to keep guard."

"Do I look like some kind of lackey?"

"Stop whining and just do it," she snapped, sitting cross-legged and setting up the candles and talismans. She lit the candles and set the journal she had bought in the middle. Hermione closed her eyes.

It was a very small, personal ritual that required someone very close to the subject. She figured that she was about as close as it gets, all things considered, unless Lord Voldemort was willing to come and lend them a hand.

She chanted the incantation, feeling the air shift around her. At the last line she saw the candles go out beyond her eyelids and heard a soft _whoosh_.

She opened her eyes and saw Draco hovering over her, light coming from his raised wand. His was not the only one.

Thousands or maybe even millions of little shimmering sparkles emerged out of the air around the book and formed a small, luminous cloud. As she watched, they started swirling around the book, now floating right in front of her, starting slow and going faster and faster before all condensing into the journal.

The little book dropped into her lap and glowed for a second before returning to the way it was. She held her wand over it.

"_Lumos_," she said, inspecting the journal, looking for any difference. She flipped through the pages and even turned it upside down.

"So um, was that it?" Draco walked up but stopped a little ways away. He seemed reluctant to get too close.

"Don't look at me."

"Why not? You're his soul mate."

"Stop saying that!" She pointed her wand towards him and he blinked a little at the light.

"Maybe you should write in it?" he asked hesitantly. "That's what Ginny Weasley did before it, well, almost killed her, but she was eleven. I'm sure you'll be fine."

Hermione glared at him as she searched her robes for a quill. She pulled one out from an inside pocket.

"Turn around!" she said, standing up with the book and her wand in her other hand.

"What?"

"Turn around so I can write on your back."

Draco stared at her. "Are you bloody serious?"

"Just do it!"

"You're doing this to get me back for that clandestine rendezvous thing aren't you?" he grumbled as he reluctantly turned around and offered her his back.

"Nah, you have something else coming for that," she said negligently as she took her quill and wrote 'Hello' on the first page. The words sunk into the parchment but nothing happened.

Her wand illuminated the pages of the small book but she could not see any indication that Riddle was in it.

"Nothing's happening," she said with a puzzled frown. "Maybe it didn't work."

"Oh darn!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Draco turned around. "I guess I'll have to read more about it in the morning – figure out what I did wrong."

"Don't take it too hard, not everyone can follow instructions in a book."

"Don't you have goats to go slaughter or something?"

"Oh will you look at the time!" Draco made an exaggerated show of hastily gathering his broom and mounting it.

She had to laugh. "By all means fly away and leave a girl here to trudge back to school alone."

"Oh please," Draco said with a grin as he took off the ground, "something is far more likely to get me than you."

She avoided all the patrols and Filch on her way back to her room effortlessly. She was almost sure she could do it with her eyes closed after years of scampering around the dark with her two best friends.

She could not say honestly that she were very disappointed in not having returned Tom Riddle's spirit to the diary. She would try again of course, for the safety of the graduating students and probably most of the Wizarding World might depend on it, but if it does not work then they will simply have to find another way.

Entering her room, she could not help breathe out of sign of relief. She put the books back on her desk and got ready for bed quickly. Her bed looked more inviting than usual this evening and she very happily settled herself in.

It felt as if her eyes had just closed before her body was righted into a sitting position. She opened her eyes and looked into the piercing gaze of dark, searching eyes. She vaguely registered that she was once again sitting at her favorite table in the empty Hogwart's library across from the most hated and feared man in the Wizarding World.

Once again, he had entered her dreams. _Drat_, she thought resignedly.

"Hello muggleborn."

She studied him for a few seconds before nodding. "Hi Tom." She did not think he looked very much different than when she last saw him in her dreams. Perhaps he looked a little taller back then but he was still immaculately groomed and dressed in his uniform.

"Congratulations on becoming Head Girl," he said, pointing his chin towards her badge.

"But not really, right?" she asked icily, smiling at his blatant lie.

He coolly raised an eyebrow.

"After all, mudbloods are not even fit to clean the school, let alone take the highest student post." Words that might have caused her pain in the past she found she could speak calmly now.

"Making your accomplishment all the more impressive."

"Or even more of an outrage."

They stared at each other. The lines had been drawn and both were waiting to see if the other would blink.

Finally he smiled. It was a charming smile but she could see the ambivalence behind it. "I guess I owe you my gratitude for rescuing me from oblivion."

"You owe Dumbledore your gratitude," she said, leaning back into her chair. "If it had been my choice you would have been sent further in instead of being pulled out."

"I am grateful nonetheless," he replied easily. She might have missed the flicker of annoyance in his eyes had she not been looking for it.

She barked out a laugh. "You're lucky you're handsome and charming."

"Excuse me?" he asked, slightly irritated though still in control.

"You're a very bad liar. You know I have all the power in this situation and you despise me for it. And you're also definitely _not_ grateful," she said, laughing with a joy she did not feel.

The annoyance on his face grew.

"Have you even _been_ grateful to anyone in your life?"

With almost no effort the calm mask fell smoothly back over his face. "You may take my gratitude however you wish. I am sure a _Gryffindor_," he said the name of her house with distaste, "would have no desire to believe a Slytherin in any case."

"With reason."

There was another long silence. She could see him pondering his next point of attack and she decided to speak first.

"It will be no use you know," she said firmly. "You cannot trick me or persuade me into thinking that you are anything besides what you are. I am _not_ Ginny Weasley and I am _not_ twelve." She met his eyes with a glare.

Tom's thin smile was unnerving. "Then I may as well speak frankly. I assume that Dumbledore did not just invite me back to chat with you. Might I inquire as to what exactly you want from me?"

Hermione had not decided what to tell him until the second he asked the question. She had been toying with the idea of telling him the truth but his clear sharp eyes made that seem like a very bad idea.

"We are now in a position to kill Voldemort. We want to know where Lord Voldemort is hiding and we thought you might be willing to volunteer that information." She folded her hands on the table and resisted the urge to tee-pee them like some sort of evil genius.

"And what makes you think that even if I knew where Lord Voldemort was hiding that I would tell you?" His smiled at her as if she amused him.

Hermione returned his smile. "Nothing. Like I said, it's not my idea. I'm perfectly happy to send you back into the void."

"You can't kill him," he said, shaking his head.

"Because of the six Horcruxes?"

Now he looked more than a little disconcerted.

"Yours is the just first we've destroyed."

"I don't believe you."

Hermione met his disbelief with continued calmness. "I don't have to prove anything to you. In fact, I don't have to do _anything _I don't want to. I can destroy the book I put you in the second I wake up if I choose to."

Now he leaned back and studied her. "I suppose you will do exactly that if I do not tell you the right answer? Surely you do not expect me to automatically know where my future counterpart would be."

"Your present counterpart," she corrected. "Welcome to 1997. And no, I don't expect you to just _know_. You are more than welcome to supply me with guesses over time. If you manage to help us kill Lord Voldemort, we will leave you alone to maybe regain your body again. However, if at any point I believe that you are of no use to us or if you are no longer helping us, I have discretion to destroy you for good."

His face darkened as she spoke. "How am I supposed to get my body back while stuck in a book?"

She shrugged. "That's not my problem."

"I see," he said, his eyes wandering to the window. "Will you allow me to think on your proposal?"

"You have one day," she said.

His eyes glittered as they turned back on her and he gave her a critical once-over. "You've grown muggleborn."

Hermione straightened up. "Oh and there's one more condition. You will no longer address me as some kind of _thing_. I am Hermione Granger and I am the Head Girl of Hogwarts. _You_ are a shadow from the past. If you do not treat me with the respect owed to me, I shall end you."

Her eyes met his over the table and held them.

"As you say…Hermione," he said, nodding the tension away smoothly. "The observation still stands that you are no longer the girl you were."

"I have your war to thank for that," she said coldly.

"You're welcome." He sounded so serious that Hermione did not think he even caught the sarcasm.

"Think about our offer in whatever place you have to think about things. I shall have your answer tomorrow." She tried not to wince as she pinched herself hard in the thigh – it might make her exit far less impressive.

She was rather surprised when she opened her eyes and the sun was shining into her room. It felt like she had not had any sleep and she did not like the feeling at all. Sighing, she got up. It seems like she would have to settle for a cold shower this morning instead of a night of rest.

---

Draco took one look at her drawn face and the bags beneath her eyes during their spare period and dragged her off. He put one hand behind her back and guided her through the halls of the school and up various flights of stairs. They were almost at the Room of Requirement when he stopped beside a window as something caught his eye.

"I can't believe they're practicing quidditch. Half our grade might not survive graduation and they're practicing quidditch," Draco said with disgust, looking out at the Gryffindor team. "You don't see me practicing quidditch do you?"

"Well as I recall," she said tiredly, "you weren't very good at it."

"I thank you on behalf of my ego Granger."

She snorted. "Oh please. I'm your ego's best friend."

Draco looked at her and rolled his eyes. "Come along," he said as he continued them down the hall towards the Room of Requirement. He walked in front of it and called a simple room with cream walls and a dark green carpet. There were two large armchairs in front of a fire and he led her to one, pulling her bag from her shoulder and dropping it on the floor. She set down the textbook she had been carrying as well on one of the arms of her chair before dropping herself down. He sat down as well.

She leaned back and luxuriated in the feeling of just relaxing. She might have fallen asleep if Draco had not decided it necessary to converse.

"Any luck on the Dark Lord front?"

"Define luck."

"Good luck."

"Then no. He's definitely back, definitely in that book and definitely hijacking my dreams so that I can't actually sleep."

Concern flittered across Draco's face.

"I told him that we already destroyed the Horcruxes and are just trying to get Voldemort's location from him," Hermione went on.

"How is that going to help us? We know exactly where Voldemort is."

"Yeah, shacking up with his Death Eaters at your house."

Draco scowled darkly. "If he touches my stuff…"

"Oh shush. The point is, I don't think he'd help us if he knew what we were trying to do; in fact he would probably be trying to think of a way to stop us."

"I wouldn't put that past him."

"I figure if I can just talk to him a little, I might get an idea of where he'd put the Horcruxes. Harry said that he's made them with sentimental objects and put them in places that mean something to him – the diary in your father's care and the ring in his mother's house."

"And the other four?" Draco asked thoughtfully.

"Well Nagini is probably one and she's probably sleeping on your bed right now." Hermione smiled at Draco's grimace. "That leaves three and I can't imagine that at least one of them wouldn't be in Hogwarts somewhere."

"Hogwarts meant that much to him?"

"He's a lot like Harry, in some ways," Hermione said with a frown, "if you ever get a chance, you should ask Harry about the places he considers home."

"So by that logic one of the others should be in the Weasley shack?"

Hermione glared at him. "Don't call it that. And of course not."

"Let us suppose that there _is _a Horcrux in Hogwarts somewhere. How exactly are we supposed to find it? Organize a school-wide treasure hunt? First one to find a piece of Lord Voldemort's soul gets two hundred points for their house!"

"We don't even know what it is that we're looking for so that would not be a good plan, not that it would be anyways." Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Hmm…stuff that belonged to the Founders. It's a good thing this school isn't roughly the same age as all the stuff they owned. Oh wait."

"So it's not going to be easy. But Harry said that we're most likely looking for a locket, a cup or something of either Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's – most likely the former; Gryffindor didn't have many heirlooms and they are safely in Hogwarts, un-desecrated."

"It's still a very large school."

"But not every place will mean something to him. That's why I need your help Draco."

"A momentous honor, I assure you. What can Draco Malfoy do for you today?" Draco's wry smile belied his sarcasm.

"You have access to the Slytherin common room, not to mention you're now living in the same room that Riddle did in his last year."

"That's an exciting thought about my bedroom that I hadn't considered before. Thank you Granger."

She ignored him. "If you could do a search of your room and maybe the Slytherin common room, that'd be great."

"What exactly will I be looking for?"

"Anything that doesn't seem like it belongs."

"Crabbe and Goyle don't belong," Draco pointed out. "Slytherin would roll over in his grave if he saw the two of them."

"Thing, Draco. That's about as much as we can do until I figure out what other places Voldemort might revere enough to hide something. Harry's working on a clue as to the location of the Slytherin Locket he got with Dumbledore at the end of last year. Also Dumbledore is still making frequent trips out looking for all this stuff and organizing some kind of defense for Graduation I'd imagine."

"You know this all would be a lot more exciting if the conclusion to us failing isn't a slow and horrible death."

Hermione gave him a look. "_Anyways_, if we can't make any headway by the end of the Christmas Holidays with what I can glean from Riddle, I might as well just ask him. I don't think it'll help but by that point…"

"We're probably screwed already," the blond finished. "Well, I guess I'm going to be pulling up some floorboards tonight."

"Oh Draco," she said, remembering suddenly, "I've been meaning to ask you; is your house giving you a hard time because of the whole…" she trailed off, not knowing how to describe it.

Draco just shrugged. "I'm still only friends with about half of Slytherin – the other half now of course. The daughters of Death Eaters won't sleep with me anymore so that's a bit of a loss."

Hermione blinked at him.

"They're the fun ones in bed," he added for clarification.

She threw her textbook at him. "Idiot," she muttered.

Draco caught the book before it could damage his nose and graciously leaned over and put it back.

She yawned and gathered her things, resisting the desire to just stay and sleep. "I need to go study before last period, and finish my transfiguration essay. I've been a little preoccupied this last week and I'm falling behind." She stood up.

Draco leaned back and studied her. "You look dead on your feet Granger."

"Well Tom bloody Riddle did not let me get any real sleep last night and I'm exhausted."

"Either pick up some coffee from the kitchens on your way to the library or get a pillow from your room. Otherwise you'll probably end up drooling on Pince's precious books and it could get embarrassing."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Coffee, noted." She barely smothered another yawn as she made to leave the room. She turned and frowned at her counterpart. "Can you take my rounds for this evening? I'm pretty tired and I don't think I'll be any good after dinner."

"What will you give me in return?" He gave her an exaggerated leer.

"Respect."

He seemed to ponder that for a few moments. "Alright then. I suppose I may as well have some of that from _someone_."

---

She could barely keep her eyes opened at dinner that evening and wanted nothing more than to get back to her room and sleep – real sleep in blissful oblivion.

Harry and Ron tried a few times to draw her into conversation but she could not contribute much as most of her mental power was devoted towards not falling face forward into her soup.

"With classes and studying for NEWTs and all that Head Girl stuff, you must be going crazy," Harry finally said.

"I'm doing okay actually." She tried to give Harry a reassuring smile.

"Right. And I'm a Blast-Ended Skrewt."

"Best looking one of the bunch," Ron said between bites from across the table, "though you know, not by much."

Hermione laughed as Harry launched his rebuttal in the form of peas off his spoon.

"Let's all play nice children," Nearly Headless Nick said as he floated down the aisle. He absently pulled off his head with one hand and scratched at the stump under it with the other. A few of the first years nearby made gagging noises.

"Is something wrong?" Harry asked him.

"What? Oh no, I am just waiting for a letter from Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore. I sent my one-hundred-and-fourteenth petition to join the Headless Hunt three weeks ago."

"Do you think that they will let you this time?" Ron asked.

This question turned out to be a mistake as Nick decided to give them a point by point argument as to why a ghost head attached to a ghost body by a quarter inch of ghost skin could still be potentially used in a headless hunt.

Hermione managed to listen for two minutes before she keeled over. It was only Harry's quick seeker reflexes at both grabbing her arm and pushing her soup away that saved her from a gross and humiliating situation.

"I'm going to bed," she told her best friends as she stood up. She did not think she could get more food down anyways and her mind was too mushy for studying.

They exchanged a slightly worried look at which she rolled her eyes.

"Look, I'm fine. I just need a good night's sleep."

She trudged upstairs and to her room. As she settled down, she wondered what the chances were of getting actual sleep tonight.

Apparently it was not good as she almost instantly woke into the sunset as seen from the Astronomy Tower.

Tom was leaning against the railing looking out into the fiery evening sky.

Hermione sighed and joined him. For this to work she had to get into his mind and that meant talking to him.

"Hermione."

"Tom."

Their tones were not cordial but at least they were civil.

"Well?" she asked, not bothering to phrase the question.

"There are any number of places Lord Voldemort could be hiding," he said without looking at her.

"Name one." She was so tired and she did not want to do this now.

"The orphanage where I grew up is my best guess. I believe it was going to be closed down not long after I left for my last year."

Hermione thought about that. It was plausible if the orphanage had in fact been abandoned. Voldemort might deplore the place, but he also stayed at his father's home for a while during fourth year. However, Tom Riddle being Tom Riddle, she did not think that he would just tell her something that could be true. "We'll look into it."

He said nothing in response and she briefly wondered if she might be able to get some actual sleep tonight if she could end this early enough. Her hopes were dashed when he spoke again.

"Have you ever wished that the world could be better?"

She had to laugh at the irony of who exactly was asking her that question. "Every single day," she says.

"I could put you in a position where you can do something about it." There was something seductive about his confidence that she could not help but smile.

"And how that would you do that?"

Tom turned and looked at her with a twisted smile. "Guess."

"What makes you think that Lord Voldemort would accept the muggleborn best friend of Harry Potter as a follower?"

"Lieutenant."

Now Hermione was really surprised. "Yeah right." She turned sideways on the rail and looked up to him.

His eyes searched her face speculatively. "Quality is a trait that must never be underestimated," he said.

She snorted. "If you say so," she said, still not believing him.

Tom shrugged in response. "I could tell you what to say to guarantee my counterpart's acceptance."

"So you want me to go join Lord Voldemort and take over the world?" she asked, bemused. Idly she wondered if this was just his way of flattering her to get inside her head.

"Would that truly be so bad?" he asked with passion she never expected to hear in his voice. "Think of what you could accomplish."

"Accomplish. At the expense of what? Anyone who got in your way?"

"Weaklings…"

"People!" she snapped.

He blew out a tuff of air and turned back out towards the open sky. The sun had almost set but there was still a beautiful orange glow tinting the view.

"Why?" she asked, not taking her eyes off of him.

"Why what?"

"Why should I follow you? Why are you able to lead the Wizarding World better than anybody else?"

He turned again and blinked at her.

"What? You just asked me to help you achieve world domination; certainly I should be allowed to ask for your qualifications." Hermione was tired and irritable and she just wanted to sleep but something compelled her to continue the conversation.

"My qualifications…" he repeated incredulously. "I'm the smartest and most powerful wizard to ever come through Hogwarts!"

"Certainly the most modest," she said as she pondered his argument. Intelligent and strong would certainly be an improvement on Fudge and Scrimgeour. "Your treatment of those that can not defend themselves leaves much to be desired."

"Holding every squib's hand is to the detriment of our kind," Tom said in a very matter-of-fact tone. "Those that cannot keep up shall be left behind."

"Left behind for the lions," she said quietly. Hermione felt a vague sense of worry, even in this dreamscape. It truly worried her that at some point in the past, Lord Voldemort believed that his cause was righteous.

"If that is what it takes."

"And what shall _you_ do if I go and join the Dark Lord?" she asked.

"I can find a way to regain my body even without Lord Voldemort." His eyes glittered and sent a chill down her spine.

"Perhaps I should just send you a first year to charm and save you the dilemma of finding one yourself?" She could not keep the venom from her voice.

"If it's not too much trouble," he said with another twisted smile.

Hermione felt her face freeze. The slow, simmering anger she had felt at each loss of life over the past few years boiled over a little. "I am going to make one thing very, very clear Tom Marvolo Riddle," she hissed softly. "I am Head Girl in this school and every student in it is my charge. Just because you did not appreciate the duty when it had been your turn does not mean that I shall not do mine. If you harm one hair on _any_ student in _any_ year or house in this school, I shall rip your book apart page by page with your own Basilisk's fangs."

His eyes had hardened. "Do not presume to tell me what my duty is."

"You killed a student you were supposed to be protecting."

"I was protecting them," he snapped, voice rising.

"From what? Life?"

"From being miserable excuses of wizards and witches. For letting down their names and heritages!"

Hermione shook her head in disbelief. "Then Myrtle's crime was what?"

"She was crying in a bathroom like some sort of weak sniveling mouse!"

"PEOPLE CRY IN BATHROOMS!" she yelled. She controlled herself with difficulty before she continued. "Afterwards, they move on and become stronger for it. It's no reason to be stabbed in the back by a boy you thought you could trust."

Tom sneered. "Slytherin would not have wanted her in his school."

"And we must do everything that Salazar Slytherin, disappeared and dead for a millennium, wants, mustn't we?" she said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I suppose you've never cried, in a bathroom or otherwise?"

He looked away for a second. "Lord Voldemort does not cry."

Hermione decided not call him on semantics. For a moment, she could not help feeling unbelievable pity for the way he saw the world. There was a hint of doubt in his eyes that made her even angrier. He was not completely certain and he still tore the Wizarding World apart for his beliefs.

"You think that is because he is so strong that he has no reason to," she said quietly, "but the rest of us know better. Lord Voldemort does not cry because he cannot comprehend any of the reasons to cry. He simply does not understand the _feeling_."

Tom did not answer.

"And neither do you." She turned and sat, back to the railing. Then, because she could not help herself, she started laughing.

After a half a minute he made a noise of irritation and crouched down beside her. "And may I ask, what could possibly be humorous about this?"

She took one look at his face and her dying laughter returned. It was so close to a sob that she could not have said for sure that she was not crying. She finally shook her head. "It's so hilariously tragic that the one person who would do _anything _to live forever doesn't even understand what it means to _live_."

"And what, pray tell, does it mean to live?"

"When you understand…_if_ you understand someday, you won't have to ask."

His face was unreadable.

Hermione could not help just staring at him. He was close enough to touch and the curls on his head looked so touchable that she could not help wondering what they would feel like. He looked almost human. Almost.

Tom's dark eyes stared back.

"What happened to the girl whose greatest dream was to discover and create magic?"

"She saw it used to maim, torture, and kill people," she said, closing her eyes as she realized that the person responsible was not a meter from her. "_You_ taught me that magic is just as horrifying as everything else…and I hate you for it," she added matter-of-factly.

He laughed, settling himself down properly. "Why are you so angry?" he asked curiously.

"Excuse me?" she said, incredulous that he would ask such a question.

"The strong have been taking power over the weak for many millennia – Dark Wizards are a natural part of our history," he said, "and yet you seem to take my rise to power personally." He raised an eyebrow in question.

She thought about it. To some extent, he was right. While the rest of the wizards and witches she knew were shifting between scared, resigned and horrified, both she and Harry were angry more often than not. "This world – this is what I've dreamed of all my life. It's a place where things can really happen, where the impossible can be possible. I guess I just always thought that life would be better here than in the world I left."

He was silent for a few minutes. Finally he just said, "Sacrifices are needed to make the Wizarding World stronger."

"I guess I just don't think that you have the right to make that choice for everyone in it," she replied softly.

"If not me then who?"

She wanted to say that everyone should have a choice, and perhaps everyone should, but Hermione knew enough about people to know that most of them made bad choices. Perhaps that's why Tom Riddle felt that it was almost his responsibility to decide for other people.

"I don't know," she said finally, "but when all but a handful of people are terrified of hearing your name, I think you're doing it wrong. The Wizarding World is definitely not stronger for having known you. "

Finally her exhaustion became impossible to ignore. Hermione rubbed her temples and looked at Tom who was just sitting on the floor studying her. "I should go," she said simply. "I would appreciate these nighttime visits to stop until I have something in regards to your…tip."

"As you wish," Tom said, raising an eyebrow and making a slight mocking half-bow from where he sat.

Hermione stood and looked down at him. "I wish I could say that you were everything that's wrong with the world, but I can't – everything's wrong with the world. But your way of fixing it is just making things worse." She took a deep breath. "I _will _make the world better or die trying, _without_ your assistance." she added firmly.

He leaned back and gave her another undecipherable look.

She put arms behind her back and used one hand to pinch the skin on the back of the other.

She woke once again to sunlight and once again she felt as if she had gotten no sleep whatsoever. She wanted to cry as she looked at the clock and saw that there was not even going to be time to have breakfast. Rolling out of bed with a thud, she took the offending journal and threw it across the room. It hit the opposite wall and fell to the floor.

---

A/N: I'm fairly fond of this chapter. It might not be the most elegantly written but it does provide a nice platform to move forward – both for the "plot" and the couple. I was going to put some more wrangling between the pair but they both wanted to just talk more. Hermione was too tired to tango but there will be more of that when she gets some sleep.

Please review if you like it, or even if you have a complaint. This is my first real attempt at writing so I check reviews all the time. I'm trying to get better every chapter; if something starts working for you, I'd love to hear about it.

Also I am looking for a volunteer beta reader. My chapters are basically 6-8k words long and I'm mostly looking for someone who'll catch typos and such though comments would be appreciated. If you might have an hour or two a week for that, please let me know.

Next chapter's out by Friday night with any luck. It'll feature excitement and some Tom being magically awesome. The cuteness will come but with a couple like this rushing it would feel kind of OOC. And as he becomes more person-ey, there will be parts of the story from his perspective.

This is a 20 chapter story with a prologue, an epilogue and an interlude or two. So it's not going to drag on forever. =)

EDIT: Gah, these chapters keep getting longer and more ambitious. I'm now predicting a Saturday or Sunday posting. Please keep reviewing. I'm getting a little worn out with all the writing - I wish I could just read. The reviews really make me feel better.


	4. Chapter 3: Surprises and Shadows

**NOTE: Ugh I wasn't thinking when I edited this chapter and accidentally re-uploaded it. So it's not actually a new chapter. Just scroll to the bottom for the comment I added as to it's status. **

A/N: So I had an exam and a camping trip and a lot of other stuff but I've been continuously writing. It might've been finished earlier but I had to re-plot the whole thing due to pacing issues. You asked for an explanation to the Hermione/Draco friendship and this chapter starts with that. I apologize for so much of that friendship (which will remain a friendship -_-) but it's going to start fading into the background as of mid–this chapter. Someone asked what 'aihe' meant – I was just searching for a random penname that wasn't something I normally used (I'm pretty private about my writing and wouldn't want to get google-ed by people I actually know) and it's Maori for dolphin. Sorry about the late update and thanks for everyone that's reviewing – you guys are keeping me going.

Oh and as to all of Tom's undecipherable looks – it's partly a writer's cop-out but mostly because I don't even think he knows what he's feeling about her. She definitely interests him and he probably even likes her on some level but that's unacceptable. So he's confuzzled and his expressions convey that. But in this chapter he's kind of just fooling around and getting some range. Also he's going to start doing things that are basically the equivalent of a boy pulling at a girl's pigtails but he's not really going to understand why for a while.

Warning: This is a long chapter despite not much happening in it. It might take some time to get through as it's almost twice as long as the others.

_One Month Ago_

Ron and Harry burst into the kitchen just as Hermione put her tea on the table – or more accurately, Ron burst into the kitchen and Harry followed reluctantly behind.

She frowned at her best friends as the door slammed behind them. It was very late and they had to leave for King's Cross early in the morning.

Hermione was not very surprised at the confrontation however. She had known that something was bothering Ron recently much as he tried to deny it. The only thing that she wondered at, besides the nature of what made him so irritable, was how long it would take him to erupt.

"Have you finished packing Ron?" she asked carefully. She tried to catch Harry's eye to get a hint as to what she might expect but he studiously avoided her gaze.

"You know what I'm here about!"

Hermione barely held back a loud sigh; Ron's belligerent launch into the conversation did not herald a very promising end. "No, I really don't." She said it as soothingly as she could though experience told her it was hopeless.

"Malfoy." Ron spat out the name like an accusation.

"Lucius, Draco or Narcissa? I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific."

"Draco," Harry supplied helpfully. He did not, however, elaborate when she looked at him.

"What about Draco?" Hermione was curious now. Draco had spent almost the entire summer hiding in the den or his room at 12 Grimmauld and had very little opportunity to annoy Ron, especially to this degree.

"You're spending a lot of time with him," Ron said angrily. His eyes bulged out as they always did when he was being more irrational than usual.

She frowned as she started to get an inkling of what might be setting a fire under Ron. "He's the Head Boy and we have administrative details we need to go over. It's actually rather lucky we have all this time before school starts so we don't have to do all of it in September."

"That's convenient."

"Excuse me?"

"I said: that's convenient." Ron's eyes bore into hers like some sort of challenge.

"Hermione, we're just a little worried," Harry interrupted when Ron made no attempt to clarify his point. "Draco Malfoy's done all sorts of things to us over the years and you're treating him like you've been friends for ages."

"Yeah, and he's called you a mud…well you know, like a million times," Ron added.

Hermione scowled. "I haven't forgotten if that's what you mean."

"Then how can you even be friends with him? He's been a complete wanker for the last six years!"

She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. "You don't believe that people can change?" she asked as calmly as she could manage.

"People maybe, but not bloody Malfoy." Ron spoke with absolute confidence.

Hermione turned to Harry and saw a flicker of doubt in his green eyes.

"There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin." Harry quoted what they had all heard many times before.

"Peter Pettigrew," was her only reply.

"So he's just the exception that proves the rule!" Ron declared proudly, as if making an irrefutable point.

"That whole thing is a logical fallacy. Just because dark wizards come from Slytherin doesn't mean that every Slytherin is going to be dark."

"But Hermione, he's _Malfoy_," Harry said with a troubled expression.

"Yes, you've said that already," she said, increasingly irritated by the conversation. "And when you have proof that a person's name or house will make them innately evil, I'll consider the argument."

"You can't just start trusting a bloke like that!" Ron said indignantly. "The second you do, he'll…he'll…" Ron was clearly going through a list of the things that Draco could do to her and searching for the worst representative when Hermione interrupted him.

"I'm not going to depend on him for my life or anything; I'm just trying to be his friend."

"Well you can't." Ron crossed his arms stubbornly.

"What do you mean I can't?" Hermione snapped. "You can't tell me who I can or cannot be friends with!" But her anger only made Ron madder. His whole face went red as he stared at her, nostrils flaring.

"Why are you defending him like that? Are you sleeping with him or something?"

Her jaw dropped at the accusation. "WHAT?"

Beside Ron, Harry winced.

Hermione was absolutely thunderstruck. She had thought that their relationship ended amicably at the beginning of the summer. They mutually decided that they were unsuited for each other and the last thing she expected were wild, jealous accusations. "You've been living in the same house all summer with us! How could you even say that we're somehow conducting an illicit relationship here?" She kept her own voice down with effort so as not to possibly wake Ginny, Arthur, Molly or Draco.

"That's not what we're saying," Harry said as he tried to save the conversation.

"That's what I'm saying." Ron crossed his arms stubbornly.

"That's absurd! Have you absolutely lost your mind?" she yelled.

Ron's expression became less certain. He likely only accused her in the heat of the moment and now knew he had blundered. Having lost the higher ground, he seemed to be deciding between pushing further and just shutting up.

And Hermione knew on some level that he did not mean it but she could not simply pretend that he did not say it and that she was not hurt. "Get out!" She finally just pointed at the door, not knowing what else to say. "Go and pack, and grow up, and then come and talk to me."

Harry tugged at Ron's sleeve and Ron turned and pushed past him and out to the hall. She could hear his loud stamping as he went up the stairs.

"Harry, what exactly just happened?" The whole discussion felt slightly surreal and she could only frown at her other friend in helplessness.

"Sorry 'Mione. Ron's not taking this whole break-up thing brilliantly." He made a face. "He has good and bad days. The idea of you guys together has been around long before your relationship existed and I think it's hard for him to let go, despite knowing it was the best thing to do."

Hermione's anger faded somewhat. "I guess I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"He'll probably be calmer by then," Harry said with a supportive smile.

"You know," Hermione said after a pause, "Draco really isn't that bad.

"I'm not necessarily saying that he is Hermione, though I'm not a fan of the guy after all that's happened. I just don't want you to get hurt. You can give him a fresh start if you'd like but don't trust him immediately. You don't know what he's going to do with a second chance."

She smiled. "When did you get so smart?"

Harry grinned, his hand reaching up to rub his scar absently. "Oh I dunno, around the time I got so handsome I believe."

They both laughed. Hermione stepped forward to slap him on the side of his head but he dodged her blow with ease.

"I'll be careful and you don't judge him solely on his past or his house. Really Harry, give him a chance."

"And when we get murdered in our sleep?"

"You can blame me." They both smiled at the joke though it was not really funny; morbid humor had become more appealing recently.

"Still got some stuff to pack. See you in the morning 'Mione." He turned and followed Ron out.

Hermione swept a hand down her face and shook her head. Sometimes she just did not know what to do with her friends.

As she sat down to her cooled tea, she was still thinking of the discussion she just had with her friends. She caught the handle with her hand and upset the whole thing. Hermione reached out but was only able to save the porcelain from smashing onto the floor.

She automatically grabbed a nearby tea towel to wipe up the mess and when she knelt down, something caught her eye under the table. It was her Wall-fly and it was _glowing_. Someone was listening in on their conversation and Hermione did not have to make a very big leap to guess who that would be.

Hermione was not in the best of moods when she burst into the den upstairs and found Draco sitting there. The rant she had planned in her head during the walk up from the kitchen was stopped short by the expression on his face – it was not cheeky or triumphant but solemn and contemplative.

A mix of pity, sympathy and level-headedness made check her foul mood and revise her opening.

"Don't think too hard there Draco, you might strain something."

He answered her with a small smile as he deactivated the other half of the wall-fly that sat openly on the table. "So what would be so bad about sleeping with me?" He demanded with mild indignation.

Hermione dropped herself down in an armchair and buried her hands in her hair. "Not you too," she groaned. "You know eavesdropping is wrong."

"Oh please, you've done it for two Order meetings already."

She opened her mouth to defend herself but there was not much she could say to that. "There's nothing wrong with you Draco, at least I don't think there is." She gave him a look. "Though there have been rumors floating around about - never mind."

Draco grinned. "Tell me the rumors and I'll tell you if they're true."

"No thank you." Hermione thought that happiness suited Draco far better than surliness and depression. "The point isn't that Ron accused me of having something going on with _you_. He seems to think that I'm going to move on to the first male I see just because they're there."

"Hey!"

Hermione smiled at his indignant expression. "He thinks that somehow our relationship meant so little to me that I could get over it and hook up with someone new like that." Hermione snapped her fingers. "And don't say anything bad about Ron," she said as he opened his mouth.

"What? Me?" Draco schooled his expression into something that looked vaguely innocent. "I was just going to say, and not to sound like some sort of expert on relationships, that you and Weasley never quite made sense to me."

"Or anyone else."

"Or anyone else," Draco agreed.

Hermione shrugged. "It'll be okay once we have a reasonable conversation. You can't be best friends for as long as we have without a little getting better at adapting to fights. We'll be good long before we get to school tomorrow."

"Awww." Draco's sarcasm lacked bite and she only half-heartedly glared at him in return.

"Will you be okay going back to Hogwarts tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

"We'll see won't we?" Draco said. He smiled slightly at her concerned expression. "Like there's anything that can really faze me at this point." A distant look appeared on his face and she could tell he was thinking about what was to come.

Hermione occupied the subsequent lull in their conversation by examining the Wall-fly on the table.

"Thanks for getting me books," he said finally. "I'm sure I could've gotten some secondhand ones from Dumbledore or something."

"You? Secondhand?" Hermione looked up and snorted.

"I suppose it wouldn't be keeping with the great Malfoy tradition," he admitted ruefully. There was an odd expression on his face as he looked at her.

"What?" she asked. A long silence followed her question but he did not stop looking at her. At last, he answered her quietly.

"I'm sorry I called you a mudblood."

Hermione startled a little – she had not thought that an apology would matter to her until she heard it. She moved over to sit down next to him on the couch. "I'm sorry I slapped you in third year."

"I deserved it," he said wryly. "I'm sorry I said that you should be attacked by the giant snake."

"I'm sorry I called you a ferret." Each apology came easier than the last.

"I'm sorry I made your teeth big," Draco said, giving her a sideways glance. "Well, _bigger_." He laughed and cringed jokingly when she hit him in the arm.

"I'm pretty sure I'm angrier at Professor Snape for that incident." They both fell silent at this; their recently deceased professor still weighed on their minds.

Hermione leaned back and looked at him. Draco returned her stare thoughtfully with cool grey eyes. He had cleaned up his hair and clothes since he received his Head Boy badge and had also been eating more, to Molly's relief.

And as she looked at him, she thought that he did not bear much resemblance to the arrogant show-off she had known for six years. Hermione blinked. When had Draco Malfoy grown up?

"Did I grow a beak or something Granger?" he asked after a minute.

She looked at him somberly, hoping to convey her sincerity. "I'm sorry your mother died Draco, I really am."

"I know," he said, nodding slowly. "Thanks." He did not say exactly what his gratitude was for and Hermione chose not to ask.

"You know," he continued hesitantly. "Since we're going to be working together all year, it might be good if we developed some kind of understanding…as to…an acquaintance of some kind."

She could not help but smile at his awkwardness. "Are you asking me to be your friend?"

He looked affronted. "Of course not."

Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Well, kind of," he admitted. "Unless you can think of some reason not to…"

"It's worth a shot…in my opinion at least."

Draco made a valiant though unsuccessful effort to hide his relief and Hermione could not help but throw an arm around him and give him a slight squeeze.

"There's still some stuff to cover for the first meeting's agenda but we can probably do that on the Express tomorrow. I'll meet you in the prefect car after I make up with my dullard of a best friend. I think we'd better go get some sleep lest we start our final year groggy."

"Well we can't have that."

Hermione helped Draco pack up what he had scattered around. "You were studying?" She feigned shock and he just rolled his eyes.

He walked her to her room and as she was about to close her door he put his hand up against it to stop her. "Perhaps," he said quietly, hesitantly, "having a real friend isn't going to be such a bad thing."

_Present_

"I have never despised you so much as I do right now Granger. I am never making another friend again."

Had Hermione not knowingly conscripted him for a highly unpleasant task on the grounds of friendship, she might have tried to defend herself. She was also still reeling from just how awful the past few hours were and Draco had drawn, quite literally, a shorter straw. She owed him for this and they both knew it.

"We had to check," Harry said from the end of their little procession, "it would have been a natural place for Voldemort to hide one."

Hermione led the way up the stone tunnel. She felt filthy and tried hard not to think about exactly what her robes were covered with.

"I have to admit that I'm with Malfoy here," Ron said from behind her. His weary and defeated voice was not nearly as telling as the sentiment it expressed. He was very, very unhappy.

"The Chamber of Secrets would have been a perfect hiding place Ron," she said. "Stay here for a second."

Hermione poked her head out as the sink swiveled to reveal the opening into the girl's bathroom. She made a thorough search of the washroom and stalls and made particular sure the Myrtle was not there before she called the boys out.

Harry had a brave face on but Ron and Draco, both covered with slime and pieces of snake-skin, grumbled together.

"I still think you cheated somehow," Draco said with a glare.

Hermione laughed. "I thought you Slytherins were the ones that cheated. Besides, Harry and I won fair and square. _Somebody_ had to search the big cave the Basilisk had been living in and unluckily for you, it was you guys."

"And I thought having a million hand-me-downs was unlucky. It doesn't get much worse than mucking around in the room where a monster spent a thousand bloody years digesting rats and shedding and doing other things I don't really want to think about right now." Ron sniffed at his robes and made a face.

"I'm so glad I got to fly around and explore the top half of the place – it was almost pleasant," Harry said with a smile. Both Draco and Ron gave him their dirtiest glare and Hermione had cough away her laugh.

"Well it was all a waste of time wasn't it? It's not like we found anything," Ron whined.

"I hate to say it but the Chamber of Secrets would have been my best guess," Draco offered.

Ron and Harry both accepted his remark without comment. Despite their initial reservations, they were getting used to Draco as he spent more and more time around her. They also seemed to recognize the effort Draco put into being civil and both responded in kind. Hermione had a feeling that Ron did it mostly because he felt bad for their argument right before school started but she would accept it anyways.

"Well I don't really know what to do now." Hermione looked at her friends helplessly. "I think that's all the places in this school that Lord Voldemort would find important."

Ron barely flinched at the name. "Do we even know that he hid one here?"

"I'm almost certain he did," Harry said. "Apparently he applied for a job back before my parents were in school with Dumbledore but Dumbledore seems to think that it was just an excuse to come to Hogwarts."

"To hide something you mean?" Draco asked.

"Either that or he just missed Sir Barmy-Cadogan." Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione smiled as she remembered Sir Cadogan offering to defend her honor just that morning when Ernie Macmillan accidentally bumped into her. "So we agree that he hid it here somewhere?"

"He had to have," Harry said firmly. "We just have to figure out where."

They all exchanged looks.

"We're missing something then," she said finally. "I guess we just keep thinking on it."

Hermione found herself outside of the portrait she knew to be Draco's door as her patrols ended that evening. She had never visited Draco's room and she found herself slightly apprehensive as to what it may contain. Irrational images of chains hanging from the walls and ceilings flooded her head and she shook them away as she knocked.

The painting swung out almost immediately. He had a wand in his hand but put it away upon seeing her.

"Busy?" she asked, trying to peer past him and hoping he was alone – the alternative could be awkward.

"Not at all, please come in." Draco stepped aside and waved. "Welcome to my humble abode."

"You're not humble, why should your abode be?" she asked.

He stuck his head into the hall and made a quick sweep of the area before closing the portrait of a renaissance era Wizard. "To what do I owe this honor?" He leaned against the back of the painting and gave her a curious smile.

"Nothing much, thought I'd come by and say thanks."

"You already did earlier – right before I took what might be the longest shower ever taken at Hogwarts, I might add."

"Well I thought it would mean more over a drink."

"What've you got there?" he asked as she pulled out two bottles from her robes.

"Butterbeer." Hermione was pleasantly surprised by the neatness of his room. Had it been covered with Gryffindor hangings instead of Slytherin, she might have mistaken it for her own.

"You shouldn't have," Draco said, walking to the bed tossing a pillow on the floor. A muttered word and a swish of his wand and the pillow became a dark green armchair that faced his desk. He walked over to the latter and opened a drawer.

"Well, I really do appreciate you coming with us today."

"No I mean – you shouldn't have." He head up a glass tumbler of what was clearly liquor.

"How on Earth did you sneak in - is that whiskey?" she asked incredulously. The amber liquid in the bottle swirled beautifully in the low light.

"I know a guy." Draco shrugged.

"That's a fine example you're setting. How did you ever manage to get the Head Boy post?"

"I seduced Dumbledore."

A groan from deep inside her chest escaped as Hermione dropped into the armchair and covered her face with her hands. She could not stop her shoulders from shaking in laughter and she heard Draco chuckle with her.

"I can do without that kind of imagery, thank you. And I'm sticking to butterbeer."

"Suit yourself." Draco returned one of the glasses he picked up from the bookshelf and sat himself in his desk chair.

"What Harry, Ron and I do – it's not all fun and games," she started, watching as he poured himself some whiskey from his tumbler. "And what you went through today must've sucked if you're not used to it. I'm sorry."

Draco held up a hand. "Don't worry yourself too much. My neck's also on the line in June, you know. And as far as experiences go, it wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to me, I suppose."

"Does that mean you'd do it again?" Hermione grinned at the thought. She popped the cap on her bottle.

"A snowball's chance in hell Granger."

She laughed. "Usually it's more horrifying than disgusting – our adventures. However I'd take sludging through a millennium of snake waste over people dying any day."

"All the same, let's avoid the snake waste and digested rodent skeletons if we can." Draco took a sip of his drink as if he had done it a thousand times before.

"It's a deal."

"So how goes the tête-à-têtes with the prince of darkness?" His serious expression belied his droll tone.

"Haven't talked to him for almost two weeks. He's expecting me to go to Dumbledore with some tip and return to him after we've checked it out."

"The thing about the orphanage?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, sucking the foam from the top of her butterbeer before gulping some down. "It could make a decent enough hideout but there'd be no chance he'd put a Horcrux in that place."

"Well at least you don't have to deal with him for a bit."

"No kidding. He unnerves me."

"I would certainly hope so."

They both stopped talking for a few seconds to drink their drinks and think on the boy who became Lord Voldemort.

"You know, sometimes Tom Riddle will speak and behave like any guy in our year. And then he'll say something, something most people couldn't even think about, like it was nothing…" She frowned. "I almost liked him back when I was twelve. He was a little strange but - I enjoyed talking to him until, you know, he sent a Basilisk to kill me. Now we're just enemies playing a game of poker and trying to hide our tells."

"You should tread carefully here Granger," Draco said gravely.

"I _am_ being careful."

"You are far too trusting for your own good, loathe as I am to agree with Weasley."

"It's not always a bad thing," she said in her own defense.

"No, probably not – but it's a dangerous thing. As much as I appreciate it Granger, and I do, you really shouldn't be as trusting of me as you are."

"I'll take that under advisement," she said sarcastically.

"Not that I'm not imminently trustworthy," he continued, ignoring her. "But there are those that are not. You could get into a lot of trouble by being such a good person – a fact that we Slytherins have spent centuries trying to drum into you Gryffindors."

"Empirically."

Draco shrugged. "Best way to learn."

"Well, a good person is all I know how to be," she said quietly.

"That's admirable Granger. And if you don't accept that some people can't be saved, that's going to go on your tombstone."

"Is it even worth living if I don't follow what I believe in?" she asked with a frown.

"I'm not a philosopher, just a Slytherin. But is it worth believing in something if you're too dead to fight for it?"

Hermione laughed. She took another swig from her bottle. "I think we're at an impasse."

"Don't let him get to you, Granger. You might just be the first real friend I've ever had, and you mean something to me because of it; Tom Riddle has no reason to care about you."

"You sell yourself short Draco, maybe you care because you're just a good person."

A look of horror appeared on his face. "I don't believe that at all. Please don't spread it around."

She was about to respond when there was a knock on the portrait. Draco's look of surprise told her that he had not been expecting anyone. Both of them stiffened.

"Mr. Malfoy, have you seen Miss Granger anywhere?" Professor McGonagall's voice was muffled but they both easily made out her words; she must have been yelling into the painting.

Hermione exchanged a puzzled look with Draco.

"Yes, she's right here," he shouted as he got up and put his glass on the desk.

Hermione placed her bottle on the ground and followed him to the entrance. They were both taken aback by the Deputy Headmaster's frazzled appearance.

"Professor?" Hermione tried to keep her voice free of the worry she was now feeling.

Their transfiguration professor looked past them, taking in the armchair and the bottles. She pursed her lips but obviously decided not to comment for all she said was "I am going to need you to come with me to the hospital wing Miss Granger."

"Did something happen to Harry or Ron?" she asked quickly.

"No, nothing of that sort. There is, however, a rather delicate situation that we thought you could help with." Sorrow her teacher rarely showed now evident on her face.

"What happened, Professor?" Draco decided to join the conversation.

Professor McGonagall looked between Hermione and Draco a few times before finally sighing. "Abby Grimly's parents were killed tonight." She named a second year Hufflepuff girl that Hermione had spoken with a few times before.

"Grimly is a Wizarding family," Draco pointed out. "I'm just saying that it's odd," he added at Hermione's look.

"Apparently You-Know-Who has been trying to recruit the Grimlys for quite a while and they were unable to stall any longer," Professor McGonagall said heavily. Her statement was followed by a short silence as the two students digested it.

"What do you need me for?" Hermione asked after she pushed down her initial horror and sadness.

"Miss Grimly is refusing to speak to anyone and refusing to drink or eat anything offered to her. Madam Pomfrey is reluctant to force her to ingest a potion at this point, even a sleeping draught. The girl will not acknowledge any of the staff and we thought that you might have better luck Miss Granger."

"Well of course, whatever I can do," Hermione said. She caught Draco's concerned expression and shrugged. "We can finish our conversation later; sorry I can't help you clean up…"

"Don't worry about it," Draco interrupted. "Just go."

She nodded and followed her Head of House down the hall, looking back and waving at Draco before she turned the corner. He was leaning against the frame of his entranceway with a thoughtful expression as he watched her leave.

On the way up to the hospital wing, Hermione could not help but wonder what his own feelings were considering the recent death of his mother. She would have to talk to him about it soon but right now Abby's situation was far more urgent.

It was six in the morning by the time Hermione returned to her room.

She sat with the girl in silence for hours behind a curtain in the hospital wing. Abby, perhaps in shock or as some sort of defense mechanism, just stared at the wall and did not move a muscle in all that time. Hermione, after having made her own presence known, simply waited.

Finally Abby looked over at her with wide horrified eyes and broke down crying. Hermione had held her as she sobbed. Only when she cried herself out of tears was Hermione able to convince her to take the dreamless sleeping draught. The absence of the pain would be temporary but it was all Hermione could offer for now. The girl would sleep for most of the day; Hermione promised to check on her in the evening.

She entered her room weary and exhausted but she did not have time to sleep. She pulled off her outer layer to go and take a shower when she happened to glance over at her desk. She froze.

It took a second to digest that, though seemingly impossible, someone had disturbed Tom Riddle's Journal.

The book had been hidden in plain sight in a pile of her other books. While it was still in its place, the order of the books above it had been changed. Hermione's pile might seem unordered to the untrained eye but she was able to tell when her intricate organization had been messed up almost instantly. She pulled the small Journal out and frowned at it. As she examined the book, her mind ran through a list of exactly who might have done it.

The Journal itself seemed unaffected and Hermione could not tell if anyone had written in it.

Of her friends, Draco and Ginny knew about the Journal. Ginny had a history of stealing Tom Riddle's diaries and knew the password to the Head Girl's room but Hermione could not believe that Ginny would do such a thing now without coming to her first. Draco was, as Harry had said a few weeks ago, still a wildcard and he was certainly smart enough to find a way into her room. However, Hermione could not think of a reason why he would want to.

And to give her friends the benefit of the doubt, Hermione had to consider the other possibilities. Occasionally, house-elves have managed to move things or even misplace them while cleaning, though this happened very rarely. And Dumbledore could have easily done it for motives that she did not understand. It could also have been Tom himself and Hermione frowned at her oversight; a book with a soul had, quite literally, a mind of its own. She should not have left it unattended for so long.

Hermione thought about what she should do as she showered. Besides putting some detection spells in her room, there was not much she could do. Her friendship with Draco was too tenuous to wildly accuse him of breaking and entering and she was not about to do something rash when it came to Ginny in regards to anything relating to Tom Riddle.

She carried the diary with her for the next week, feeling the weight of it under her robes almost constantly. Along with the Journal, Hermione also picked up a bout of insomnia; she had been unable to sleep until the early hours of the morning since the death of Abby's parents.

On a few of the evenings, she made trips to the library under the invisibility cloak to read books from the Restricted Section, just for something to do. The same trip in the middle of the night might have caused her uneasiness years before, but now she knew what she had to be afraid of – and it was not anything that could jump out at her in the halls of Hogwarts.

And Hermione was not alone in finding new ways to cope.

Harry divided his free time between quidditch practice and practicing techniques from various Defense Against Dark Arts books in the Room of Requirement. He dragged the rest of them in with him when they had time; Hermione spent at least an hour every few days dueling with Harry and Ron and very rarely Ginny.

This was a lot more useful than what both Draco and Ron were doing. Ron had decided that "Lavender really wasn't that bad" and was now in the middle of courting her back. If all went well in the coming year, they would probably be starting a family right after graduation. He had already started talking about having Lavender at home looking after the children as he pursued his professional quidditch career. Though Hermione was not completely happy with the idea of Ron back with Lavender, it was hard for her to be jealous of the life that awaited the other girl.

While Ron was occupied in the attainment of one girl, Draco seemed to be busy trying to get as many as possible. From the pieces of gossip Hermione picked up here and there, he was using the "This could be our last year to live" line with a fair amount of success. He did not tell her about these escapades and she did not ask.

And since Hermione's first mentioning of reviving Tom Riddle to Ginny, the younger girl had buried herself in school, friends, and quidditch. Her grades were improving and she had an active social life. She also spent more time than anyone on the pitch practicing. And curiously, she seemed to be avoiding Hermione, Harry and Ron. Ginny was polite but always too busy with someone or something else to sit with them at meals or hang out in the common room.

Hermione was not quite sure what was going on in the youngest Weasley's head but she did not want to intrude, especially when the girl projected the epitome of student life. If Ginny were truly happy and content with her life, the last thing Hermione wanted to do was disrupt it. At least someone should be happy right now.

And the least happy person in the school was Abby Grimly. Though she had rejoined classes in the week since her tragedy, she did not interact with anyone. Instead, Abby preferred to sit outside and stare off into space for hours on end. No matter what nook or cranny she managed to find though, there was always a Hufflepuff student nearby. It was not always a Hufflepuff student Abby was friends with, sometimes just a higher year who happened to be studying below the adjacent tree.

Had a Gryffindor suffered something similar, the rest of the house, being Gryffindors themselves, would have been inadequate support. As a group, they would have avoided the sufferer, not knowing how to face such irreparable devastation. Ravenclaws, smart as they are, would be unable to understand a loss that was beyond words. And Slytherins did not do much supporting or sharing in general. An Abby Grimly in any of those houses might have a few friends around, but nothing close to the unspoken protection of everyone with a yellow and black badge the real Abby now received from Hufflepuff. And it surprised Hermione that after seven years, she still had to re-evaluate her opinion of the four houses that made up Hogwarts.

A week after walking into the hospital wing for the young girl, Hermione found herself in a crisis of her own.

She was going to fail a test.

Hermione spent most of the previous evening and well into the early morning reading. It was only at about four that she could make herself go to sleep and as a result, she practically sleep-walked through her classes today.

Now she wished that she had gotten more sleep, or at least spent her time reviewing History of Magic. Instead, she had read for hours on ways to keep her extended family safe in case she did not survive graduation. The subject matter had not helped her sleep as she could not shed the looming sense of disaster and worry for those she cared about.

Her plan was just to make it through classes and go nap in the afternoon and it all would have worked had Binns not decided to give a surprise test in last period.

And now as Hermione stared at the test on which she was unable to focus, she could not help feeling that maybe she really should _not_ care.

She was still Hermione Granger and could not avoid the distant feeling of horror at failing something but another voice countered that the last thing she should be worried about is a test. It would mean nothing if she dies in June.

She blinked a few times, trying to clear her head. Her thoughts were fuzzy as a result of too little sleep too many nights in a row. Ron had tried to get her to plead sickness and get sent to the hospital wing but she had assured him that she would be fine. Now she wished that she had taken his advice for once and ditched the test on dubious grounds.

With significant effort and concentration, Hermione bent over the parchment and focused on the first question.

_In what year did the leader of the first Goblin rebellion, Gug the Grimy, come into power? _

Hermione knew the answer. She could see the page of the textbook the answer was on – see the pictures and the headings. She could even remember the smell of Molly's Yorkshire pudding baking in the kitchen downstairs when she read that page early summer. But the date would not come to her.

She closed her eyes and eased her grip on her quill before she snapped it. She was going to fail this test. And what would the rest of the school think? How was she supposed to hold everything and everyone together if she clearly lost her grip on herself? And why should a date centuries ago matter when they were living a war?

Hermione closed her eyes and willed the number to come to her but just could not recall with all the thoughts swimming in her head. A part of her wanted to cry.

"The answer is 1596."

Hermione's heart nearly skipped a beat. She must be hallucinating. She slowly opened her eyes and could see robes at the edge of her desk. Very slowly she looked up into the face of one somewhat translucent Tom Riddle. He had his head tilted sideways and was scrutinizing her with unconcealed amusement.

_Oh god I've fallen asleep, _she thought in horror. The Journal, which she carried with her all week, was sitting inside her robes. And now she's fallen asleep in the middle of class and he's invaded her bloody dreams again.

Hermione slowly looked around. Harry was writing slowly but he seemed to be fairly confident. Ron, on her other side, had this look of blank incredulousness as he read the questions but that was normal. And standing in front of her desk was Tom Riddle.

Hermione looked past, or rather through, him to Binns, who was returning her stare with a puzzled look of his own. He looked right through Tom as if he were not there.

Hermione could only look now at the manifested Heir of Slytherin. She knew the second he said the date that he was correct. He was standing in front of her in his school uniform and he walked over beside her to look down over her shoulder at the parchment.

"Gug was chosen as leader in 1596," Tom said again. The bemused smile on his face grew.

She closed her eyes again and reached down with her left hand to pinch herself. She had to bite her lip to keep from crying out at the pain. Okay, so it's not a dream, she told herself. Maybe I'm hallucinating; maybe I'm just _that_ tired.

Deliberately ignoring Tom, she moved her quill down to the second question. Before she had even finished reading it, he once again supplied the answer.

"Olaf the Oblong." There was a silky amused quality to his voice that made her want to stand up and punch him in his incorporeal face.

She risked another glance sideways at Harry, who was still diligently writing. He had not heard Tom speak. She must be hallucinating Tom; it was the only option unless…it was not. Oh lord, she thought, I can see him somehow. She slowly put down her quill and moved her right hand to her left side and felt the Journal below her robes.

Hermione turned and looked up slowly again at Tom. He lifted an eyebrow.

She could not ignore all the answers he gave her or she _would_ fail the test. And there was still a chance that he was just a manifestation of her subconscious in which case his answers were really her answers.

Slowly she picked up the quill again and jotted '1596' and 'Olaf the Oblong' in the first two spaces. She immediately read the next question and wrote the answer just as he was speaking it.

"May 18th."

She continued on, frantically scribbling the answers as fast as she could so as to figure out the next one before he answered it for her. It became something of a comical race between them as her quill flew down the page.

He answered more quickly than Hermione but writing slowed her down. The more her mind worked, the clearer her head became. She was so intent on writing that she was rather surprised when she reached the end of the parchment and there were no more questions left.

Hermione slammed down her quill to look up and glare at Tom and realized that she had the attention of every other student in the room. All nine other seventh year Gryffindors were staring at her with various expressions of amazement and shock. Harry and Ron were both looking at her with wide eyes and open mouths.

As Hermione looked over at Binns, her eyes stopped on the clock and she realized it was only six minutes into the hour-long test. She gulped. Even Professor Binns, the normally unflappable ghost, appeared surprised.

Trying to appear as casual as possible, she slowly slid out of her desk and brought the parchment to the professor. She pleaded Head Girl duties that needed attention and walked out when he nodded numbly. Tom followed close on her heels.

She winced as the door closed behind her. She knew, even without Tom Riddle telling her as well, that she answered every single question correctly. Now she's going to get a reputation as some sort of freak – even more so than before. The only good thing that test accomplished was to get her adrenaline pumping.

Hermione wanted to stop and talk to him but there were students in the halls and she could not afford the added smear of being someone who talks to herself or worse, to invisible people. It was almost as bad as hearing voices, which she had told once told Harry was a very bad thing indeed. That did not, however, stop Tom Riddle from speaking to her as she speed-walked to her room.

"Are you not going to thank me?" he asked as he smoothly fell into step beside her.

She ignored him.

"I have to admit, your manners are remarkably rustic – even for a Gryffindor. Unless I am mistaken, I just saved you from a rather embarrassing flunking of an easy test."

Hermione halted and made a quick sweep of the area. She turned to him with a glare. "You are mistaken. I was fine!" she hissed.

"And here I thought you excelled academically," he said calmly as she continued on. "I suppose you were just overstating your abilities. It is only natural for a muggleborn I suppose."

She bit her lip to keep from snapping at him as they continued down the halls of Hogwarts.

Tom followed her into her room just before she slammed the portrait.

"What did you think you were doing?" She flung her bag so hard it slid across the room before stopping against the wall.

"Helping you," he said calmly, sitting down on her desk.

"I didn't need your help!"

"You're right of course – you were doing perfectly fine blinking at the test parchment."

"Well now I basically just cheated on a test." She sat down on her bed and put her hand to her forehead.

He smiled as if she said something funny. "So?"

"So?" Hermione looked at him in disbelief.

"Who is going to know?"

"I am!"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Ah yes, the Gryffindor code of morality. It's awfully touching but will not make any significant impact on your grades."

"It's not about grades," Hermione said with exasperation.

"Not about grades?" Tom said with a quirked eyebrow. "And here I thought you were adamant about doing better than me in school."

"Yes well at this point I would be happy just to survive school." It was not something she could ever say to her friends, for fear of burdening them with her worries when they had so many of their own already. She was so relieved to say it out loud that she forgot for a moment who she was talking to. It came back with a jolt. "Because _you_ are probably going to kill me in nine months."

"Not I," he said, frowning slightly. "I am no longer a part of Lord Voldemort."

Hermione mulled over that. He was right – technically. "But you would be if you had a choice," she pointed out.

"Maybe." A slight smile appeared on his face. "Or maybe not."

"Comforting," she said sarcastically.

"What? Are you afraid of me?" His eyes took a predatory gleam and Hermione raised her chin in response.

"You want me to say no – but only a fool would not be afraid of someone so dangerous or evil."

Tom let the description of himself pass. "A fool or a Gryffindor. I suppose the two are synonymous."

"I won't deny that I'm a Gryffindor and only time will tell if I'm a fool, but I shall certainly not acquiesce to being one."

He studied her for a few long seconds, contemplative. "I am a good judge of people; I do not believe you're a fool."

"I'll agree to half of that."

He smirked, bemused. "Do you have a problem with my associates?"

"Lord Voldemort's associates," she reminded him, "are stupid or insane or greedy or cowards and sometimes a combination of the above."

"And I suppose you are none of those things?" he asked with a questioning smile.

"I certainly hope not."

"It's nice to have company, I suppose."

She laughed. "Are you saying that we're the same? Because we're not - you are at the very least insane." But as she said it, she could not help doubting. In all her conversations with Tom Riddle, even in light of his recalcitrant opinions, he had never struck her as incoherent or deranged.

"We both know that's untrue as well. Are you angry at me because I'm smarter than you are?" His matter-of-fact manner made the question sound more condescending.

"Excuse me?" She flared – she could not help it. "I'm angry that people are dying out there because of you. I'm angry that people are becoming orphans because of you. I'm angry because I'm probably not going to survive to see another autumn because of you. And I'm angry that I can't even fail a bloody test!"

He frowned. "Did you _want_ to fail the test?"

She bit her lip.

"Why on Earth would you want to fail a test?"

"If I failed," she said slowly, trying to figure it out as she spoke, "then I wouldn't have to care about school. If I failed one test, the rest are automatically less important. Maybe I could just focus on living to my next birthday then. Maybe I could focus on something _important_." She looked up into his eyes, challenging. "Like destroying you."

"Merlin forbid something distracting you from that endeavor."

"You are _not_ smarter than me."

That got an almost-genuine smile from him. "You didn't know when Gug came into power."

"I haven't been sleeping well, thank you."

"I know."

Hermione's eyebrows snapped together. "You know…of course you know. You've been spying on me."

"Shhh." Tom brought his finger to his lips, along with her attention.

"How long?" she demanded, trying not to focus on his facial features.

"One week, give or take."

That made sense; it was how long she's been carrying the Journal around. She tried to recall if anything important had been discussed between her and her friends during the time. To her relief she could not remember the word Horcrux coming up. Hermione's hand went to her robes and she unbuttoned them to pull out the small bound book. She shed the robes at the same time and unbuttoned the top button of her shirt. Putting the book in her lap, she ran her fingers along the cover. "How?" she asked finally, looking back at him.

"I don't know," he shrugged slightly. "How were you able to bring me back? I believe the two questions are related."

Hermione blanched inside at the idea of discussing the issue of soul mates with Tom Riddle. "Is that why I can see you?"

"Maybe you see me because you want to," he suggested blandly.

Hermione glared. "I most definitely do not want to see you." She turned and tossed at the Journal across the room. Tom Riddle did not disappear. She sighed; apparently the Journal did not have to be on her person for her to see him.

"Perhaps you could not throw that around like a quaffle?" he said.

"I can do whatever I want," she reminded him with a pointed look at the journal. "And I may not be able to stop you from looking around but I definitely don't have to see or hear you. Leave me the hell alone."

"I thought you wanted my assistance."

"Do you _have_ assistance?" she said, not bothering to hide her disbelief.

"I have another idea as where my counterpart may be hiding." At her look, he continued. "Perhaps you could try the dwellings of my associates."

Hermione had to resist the urge to shiver every time he referred to Lord Voldemort as himself. While his suggestion was something they would have guessed anyway, it was also remarkably accurate. Lord Voldemort _was_ hiding in Lucius Malfoy's manor.

Hermione frowned. She could not figure out if he was being helpful, trying to appear helpful or being destructive somehow. That was obviously the point. "Okay, you've offered your assistance, now leave me alone." She put as much steel as she could in the last part.

Tom hopped to his translucent feet. "Is that an order?" At his full height, he made a very cutting figure, as well as a fairly intimidating one.

Hermione stood as well, looking up slightly at him. "Take it as whatever you want – just leave me alone. If you start interfering with my life, I'm going to stop you."

He nodded at her. Then a slow smile crept upon his face - it was halfway between amused and malevolent. "Before I leave, I'll just say one more thing: if you keep turning so much in your sleep, you'll fall off the bed." With that, he disappeared.

It took a second for Hermione to absorb what he said and she promptly turned and left her room, leaving the Journal still on the floor. Safety and smartness be damned.

She ran outside into the bright and sunny afternoon. Her skin crawled as she recalled his last comment and she moved hands over her arms, brushing at the insects that were not there.

Hermione found a good sized tree away from any students and collapsed against the trunk. She wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her head back against the bark. Breathing slowly, she forced herself to think it through.

The first problem was the inherent voyeurism implied. Though she was never in less than her knickers and bra unless she was in her bathroom, she could not be sure that he could not see through the walls. But Hermione did not think that he really cared about things like that. He could have taunted her with having seen her naked but he choose instead to point out that he watches her while she slept.

But that did not really bother her either. She might be helpless then, but it was clear that he could not do much more than watch. He did not seem to have poltergeist qualities like Peeves. But the intimacy still made her shiver in the sunlight.

Somehow she was able to dream of him back when she was twelve and again now. Somehow his soul followed her from the Chamber of Secrets and asked her to help him. Somehow she was able to take a shattered soul that had been all but destroyed and repair it. Idly, Hermione wondered if it had cost her anything to do so. Dumbledore would not have let her do it if she would be in danger, would he?

If she continued bringing the Journal around with her – which she would have to in order to ensure it did not fall into the wrong hands – he could also watch her the rest of the time. The alternative was to leave it unguarded in her room as it was now. But she could not, especially for long periods of time when people knew she would be out of her room. The Journal – Tom Riddle – could cause such mayhem in the wrong hands.

She also could not help wonder what he could learn from her just by observation. And just how far had he gotten in learning Legilimency by his seventh year? A shiver went through her. Could he do it even without being completely corporeal? He might be stealing her thoughts and her soul out from under her right now. Would she know?

She promised herself that at the first hint of him feeding off of her life and soul, she would destroy the Journal. Until then, there was nothing to do but pretend to not let him get to her. She was a Gryffindor after all.

Despite this, she did not return to her room until long after dinner. Watching Harry and Ron duel settled her greatly and she was mostly composed by the time she came back to her bedroom. The Journal lay where it had fallen and she put it on the desk when she walked in, steadfastly refusing to look at it afterwards.

After Hermione had settled into bed with her Potions textbook, she forced herself to start reading and not think about how Tom Riddle Jr. might be studying her every move. It took her even longer to fall asleep than the night before; by the time she closed her eyes she had read the textbook from cover to cover.

It was almost eleven when knocks on her door woke her up. Hermione rolled over in bed and covered her head with her pillow.

"Hermione, we brought you breakfast!" Harry and Ron were both calling her name outside and banging on her portrait door.

"Go away," she mumbled into her sheets.

"I think your little friends want your attention." The cool amused voice came from inside her room.

Hermione gave up; she was outnumbered. She threw the pillow aside and sat up, blinking blearily at the bright room.

Tom Riddle sat on top of her desk with rays of light streaming though him from the window. Hermione glared at him as best as she could while squinting.

"It is way too early for all of you," she said grouchily. She got out of bed and padded to the door. The portrait swung in to reveal Harry and Ron, holding a glass of juice and two muffins respectively.

"You're not supposed to take food out of the dining hall," Hermione said with half-hearted frustration.

"Aww, you're not going to dock points are you?" Ron asked as he put the muffins down on her desk.

"Of course not."

"You missed breakfast 'Mione," Harry said with a frown. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah I'm fine." She smiled reassuringly. "I just stayed up late studying."

"Excellent," Ron said, wandering over slowly to her desk. Hermione froze for a second; even Ron might question why there was a green and silver diary-looking book on her desk. "Get dressed and come with us to Hogsmeade."

"Draco and I have to go to sit in on the Head of Houses meeting Ron, you know that."

He turned to look at her and she moved past him, shuffling the books on her desk and slipping the Journal into the middle of the pile. She ignored Tom who sat on the edge observing her interaction with her friends with the air of one studying creatures in the wild.

"Oh damn, our prefect meeting is just after isn't it?"

"_He's_ a prefect?" Tom sounded more shocked than she had ever heard him and it took all her self-control not to laugh.

"Yes Ronald. It's this afternoon at three so if you guys are going to go, you'd better go soon. I won't have time to do anything there if I come with you guys."

Harry made a face. "I guess we'll just get you something then 'Mione. Anything in particular you want from Honeydukes or Zonkos?"

"Surprise me," she grinned at him and reached up to ruffle his naturally ruffled hair. He batted her hand away good-naturedly and ran his own through his hair a few times to try and set it straight.

"Will do. Enjoy your breakfast." He nodded to her food with a grin and headed out, gesturing to Ron. "See you at dinner!"

"Yeah, and see you at the meeting," Ron said as he followed Harry.

"You'd better be there!" she called after him before shutting the portrait. She closed her eyes for a second, gathering strength. Tom pre-empted her rant.

"Your friends are rather droll."

She turned. "Don't critique my friends. You have no right to talk about them at all. And what the hell are you doing? What part of leave me alone don't you understand?"

Tom shrugged lightly. "I thought you were being facetious."

"No – no you didn't." But she would not destroy the Journal and any possibility of future assistance from him just because he annoyed her slightly, and he knew it.

She walked into her washroom with a change of clothes and, after waiting a minute to make sure he would not come through the door, got ready. "What do you hope to achieve by haunting me?" She yelled through the door as she pulled her shirt over her head.

"What makes you think there is an end purpose?" His voice came from just outside the door.

She frowned at that as she brushed her teeth. When she finally opened the door, which swung right through Tom, she glared at him. "Are you bored then? Twenty years in Lucius Malfoy's storage, a few months of causing mayhem, four years of oblivion and now my company is just a pleasant change?"

He did not move and she finally walked through him. It felt eerie like a bucket of cold water was dumped over her head but she emerged completely dry.

He followed her. "It's a change."

"Well I'm so glad that my life is entertaining but I really don't care for you so if you would please just leave me alone -" She turned to face him, leaning back against her desk.

"And miss the chance to comment on your - fascinating life?" His derisive tone met an unchanged stony expression on her side.

"Doesn't this violate some pure-blood code of yours? Aren't you worried that I'm going to taint you somehow with my muddy blood?"

"I highly doubt that," he said with an easy smile. "And why is it that every time we speak, you bring up the issue of blood? One might think that you had a preoccupation with the subject."

Her jaw dropped. "Excuse me? _I_ have a preoccupation with blood? Coming from the man who became Lord Voldemort?"

"I happened to have many other interests."

"Like what?" she asked in reflex.

"Quidditch."

"Quidditch." She repeated skeptically as she picked up one of the muffins.

"Yes."

"Oh let me guess – beater?" she asked with exaggerated thought.

"Seeker, actually."

"Of course. Deciding the match without doing any of the dirty work – I can see that."

Tom crossed his arms. "I believe that both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy were seekers in your second year and, from what I've observed over the last week, both are also your friends."

Hermione was about to say that Harry did not choose to be seeker but could not see that argument going anywhere. "Were you any good?"

"I am an excellent flyer and an acute observer."

Hermione looked into his eyes and tried to picture him as some sort of quidditch star but all she saw when she stared hard at him was the red-eyed monstrosity with slits for nostrils. She took a sip of juice and decided to humor him. After all, the more she knew of him, the better her chances of finding his Horcrux hiding places.

"And what else did you do?"

"I studied snakes."

"Of course you did."

"And other mystical creatures. I am especially fond of…"

"Dragons." She finished his sentence automatically and could not say which of them looked more surprised.

"How did you know that?"

"I'm not sure," she said slowly. She had not planned to say anything until the word came out of her mouth. It did explain how he had managed to obtain a Norwegian Ridgeback egg in first year though.

He stared at her for a few more moments before continuing. "I also dabble in wandless magic."

"I know," she said, recalling what Harry had told her about his encounter with Lord Voldemort after Bellatrix killed Sirius.

Then something occurred to her. "Do you also dabble in legilimency?"

He startled but got a hold of himself quickly. "Occasionally."

"Why?"

Tom studied her intently for a few seconds before sighing. His eyes grew distant. "There was a girl in Ravenclaw," he started quietly, leaning back against the wall she was facing. "She had eyes that were paradoxically both the sharpest and softest eyes I had ever seen. And her laugh…" He trailed off and looked away. His smooth voice and low tone were hypnotic and Hermione felt herself being drawn in. "I did not know what she was thinking and I wanted to - more than anything. I wanted to know if she wanted to be near me all the time too, wanted to know if she loved me the way I loved her. I wanted her to grace my life with her light and sparkle and complete me."

He finally stopped and looked at her, a shadow of a smile on his face.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. He had crossed the line of plausibility – undoubtedly on purpose – and entered the ridiculous.

"All of that's a lie?"

He smirked at her. "What do _you_ think?"

She scowled in return because she had almost believed him, despite her better sense. He may not truly understand emotions like love but he was damn good at faking it. "How are you able to spin a story like that? Have you been reading romance novels or something?"

"You won't believe what young boys would come to you with when you're Head Boy."

"I'm not impressed."

"I did not intend to impress you. The ability to create a believable story out of the impossible can not hope to hold a candle to breakfast foods." He nodded at the second muffin that she just picked up.

"Breakfast foods tend not to kill people," she said before she took a bite. After she swallowed, she frowned at him. "Don't you even wonder what love is like? You seem so sure that it's useless but Professor Dumbledore has always said that love is more powerful…"

"Than any magic," he finished. Tom rolled his eyes. "Just more of Dumbledore's drivel that I stopped listening to even before I started Hogwarts."

"He's an incredibly powerful wizard."

"So am I," he said with a tight smile. "And I managed to do it without any of his – love."

"You're missing out."

"I doubt that. Love is just an excuse for people to justify weakness."

"Lily Potter saved her son and almost destroyed Lord Voldemort out of love," she said. "Unless you think that's some kind of fluke."

"I am not saying that there is no power in love," Tom said seriously. "Any idiot who believes in it gives it power. Lord Voldemort did not underestimate love so much as he underestimated Lily Potter. I doubt he will make that mistake again."

"Well, no," she said with another frown. "Lily Potter is dead."

"But there are others like her – bright muggleborns who don't understand their place in the war." He raised his eyebrows at her.

"You're talking about me, of course. I should be honored to do half as well as Harry's mother did," she said firmly.

"At the expense of your life?"

"Better than dying for nothing."

"I choose not to die at all."

"That's certainly your prerogative, but I think you're missing out."

"On what? Love?" he asked with a disdainful smirk.

"Sure. And happiness. Are you even happy? Have you ever been happy?"

He said nothing and his face became carefully blank.

"Have you ever managed to cast a patronus charm?" she continued. "Do you even know what yours looks like?"

His eyes met hers and held them. What he was looking for, she did not know. Then she had to shake her head.

"You don't, do you?" She laughed coldly. "Harry cast it successfully when he was thirteen."

"Happy memories are not something of which I have an ample supply." His face darkened. "I have other ways to deal with dementors."

"Out of curiosity, is that how you decide what is worthless? If you can't have it or do it then it's not important?" Hermione knew that she was pushing it but something drove her that she could not completely explain. "Friends, family, love…"

"I had friends."

"No, you had subjects. If you'd had friends you would've been able to cast the charm."

His expression was becoming stormy, dangerous.

"It must really eat you up that all these weak, pathetic, useless muggles can all be so happy and you can't even summon up one good memory."

"They won't be very soon," he snapped back. "Not if I have anything to do with it. That will be a good memory." His face twisted into something ugly.

Hermione smiled – it was not a happy smile but it was triumphant nonetheless. "And that, Lord Voldemort, is why I don't want to talk to you or have anything to do with you. And I'm definitely _not_ being facetious." She turned to put her books in her bag and when she looked back, he had disappeared.

He was gone for the rest of the morning.

Hermione ran into the Head meeting two minutes late, after meeting a young Hufflepuff in the hall and striking up a conversation to find out how Abby Grimly was doing. The four Heads of Houses were sitting at a small round table in the teacher's lounge. Dumbledore's chair remained conspicuously empty. He had been leaving the school for weeks at a time much as he did the year before.

She joined Draco on a cushioned bench to the side of the room after making her apologies. He greeted her with a 'this is going to be exciting' eye roll before returning to the notes he had been taking.

Hermione also pulled out her notebook and a quill.

"Your Professor McGonagall seems infinitely more efficient than Dippet was." She had not expected Tom's voice a few minutes into the meeting and startled at it. She turned slightly and saw him sitting next to her at the end of the bench. Hermione sighed.

Two hours later, Hermione was more than ready for the meeting to end. With exceptions, most of the administrative issues at Hogwarts were boring and none of her concern. The two Head Boys flanking her were of no help as well. Draco kept drifting off and she had to elbow him over a dozen times to keep him from snoring. On her other side, Tom just sat listening but his presence bothered her greatly. The only time he said something was when Professor Slughorn had complained of the increase of Slytherin-Gryffindor confrontations and he muttered "just transfigure all the Gryffindors into cabbages".

Hermione instinctively ran her other elbow into his ribs to no effect. When she withdrew her arm due to the cold, she heard him laugh quietly.

She almost clapped when her Head of House called an end to the meeting. After giving Draco one last poke in the ribs - this time hard - she stood up.

"Thank you Professor McGonagall. I shall be sure to inform the prefects of the things they need to know." Hermione turned and looked expectantly at Draco.

"Yes, good points, thank you," He mumbled as he gathered his things.

Hermione rolled her eyes at him before turning to share a smile with her Head of House.

"Have a good meeting and good evening Ms. Granger. I shall see you in class on Monday."

"Good job Draco," Hermione said as she left the room with both Head Boys following close behind. "Way to drool all over yourself."

"I was tired."

"So was I but I sat through it."

"I'm a Slytherin," Draco said as if it would be news to her. "We tend to avoid useless activities."

"He has a point," Tom said from her other side.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "And why was paying attention useless again?"

"Because you were being your usual diligent self and even if I were to try, my efforts would have been easily eclipsed by your note-taking ability." He threw an arm around her shoulders.

Hermione ducked out from under his arm and frowned at him. "Flattery will get you _nowhere_."

"Nowhere with you, maybe," he said, grinning.

She shook her head at him and rolled her eyes.

"So this is Draco Malfoy, the latest of the illustrious blood line." Something about Tom's voice made her frown. He sounded unhappy but she could not turn to confirm it.

"I heard you did a rather impressive and frightening job on your History test yesterday," Draco said.

"Yes but I don't want to talk about it." She knew she would have to tell him about Tom Riddle eventually. But it would worry him and Hermione did not want to add to his burdens.

Draco laughed. "People are buzzing. They're saying that you're getting smarter every year; you're a genius; you've been ultra-smart all this time but were hiding it to blend in; you took _Felix Felicis_; you read minds; you're engaged in a tawdry love-affair with the Head Boy -"

Hermione stopped and stared at him. Both boys – one solid and one translucent – passed her and turned back. "What does that last one have to do with the test?"

"Nothing," Draco said with a mischievous smile. It drew a laugh from her.

"Well it'll only happen in your dreams," she grinned at him. Then she saw from the corner of her eye that Tom was glowering at them. She frowned, puzzled.

"Oy, 'Mione!" Ron waved at her from the end of the hall, breaking her thought process. He disappeared into the prefect lounge. She quickly followed, walking past both Head Boys.

"Like you've never dreamed about me," Draco said as they entered.

Everyone already in the room looked up at them. Some smiled openly while others tried to cover their amusement. Ron, sitting next to Lavender who had taken Hermione's prefect position, did not look particularly happy but also did not look openly hostile at their banter.

"Never ever." She said, setting her stuff behind the desk. "Ever," she added for good measure. Then she tilted her head in exaggerated thought. "Actually I do recall dreaming about you insulting another hippogryph. Does that count?"

"Ouch!" Draco put his hand up to his heart as the prefects laughed.

The prefect lounge was very much like a common room but without the bedrooms. It was behind a painting on the second floor and held a fireplace and a number of couches, as well as a shared desk for the Head Girl and Head Boy.

All twenty-four prefects were present today as they discussed through some administration issues such as students to keep an eye on, quidditch practice schedules, dinner menus, and, Ron's favorite, which Weasleys Wheezes are being passed around and what they do.

Hermione sat behind the desk, ticking off points as they moved through them. Draco lounged on a chaise by the fireplace, seemingly content to let her do all the work.

This meant that the chair across the table was empty, or at least it was before Tom appropriated it at the start of the meeting. He seemed content to listen to her as well.

Hermione wondered if that was a Slytherin affection of if these two boys just happened to have a lot in common.

"The final point is to remind you that our Halloween dinner has officially been declared a party. People are encouraged to dress in costumes or at least dress in something besides their uniforms. Draco and I have a small wager on whether Slytherin or Gryffindor will have more house points that morning. I'm sure you'd all rather see our Head Boy in Gryffindor colors that evening than me in Slytherin so you all know what to do."

The prefects snickered. Pansy, who now had no love for Draco, actually smirked and tossed her hair in his direction. The Head Boy in question simply smiled.

"As always, I remain confident in my house."

"I think that's pretty much it," she announced to the group of prefects sitting in front of her. "Unless there's something someone wants to bring up."

She frowned when Ron pulled at Lavender's hair as she spoke, making the other girl giggle. Surely that could wait till after the meeting.

"Hermione?" Celeste Ravencroft, a 6th year Ravenclaw prefect raised a hand hesitantly.

"Celeste?"

"I don't know about your houses, but the younger students in mine are getting a little…unsettled?"

The room that went quiet very suddenly.

"I mean, the muggleborn students are worried about their families getting targeted and the purebloods and half-bloods are worried that their parents will be recruited which is just as bad. After what happened to Abby's family, everyone is even more on edge. The younger ones are having a lot of nightmares too." Celeste bit her lip.

Hermione turned her head slightly and glared across the desk at Tom.

"You bear it," Draco said, breaking his silence and sitting up. "There is nothing else to do."

"Yes there is," Hermione said before Tom could comment. She pushed her chair back and stood up. She paused and looked at them all. "You learn to fight, you find people to practice with and you do it as much as you can, because one day you will have to."

The prefects looked back at her silently.

Hermione tried to sound as confident as she could. She knew that if the older students despaired then the younger students would pick up on it. "Half of the adults in the Wizarding World, if not more, have given up. But we cannot give up. If we cannot win the next war, we must simply start planning for the one after. We have to be ready to fight for our freedom and our people - there has not been a dark wizard that has not been defeated at some point. So we wait, and we prepare, and, because this is still Hogwarts, we learn."

No one said anything when she finished but she saw some sitting up straighter and others lifting their chins a little higher. She risked a quick glance in Tom's direction; he was leaning back in the chair, staring up at her with one of his inscrutable expressions.

"And on that cheerful note, I think we're done here. See you all next week, same time." Draco stood up and waved his hand in dismissal. He walked over to where she was organizing her papers as the prefects filed out. "Need any help with that?"

"No, you go ahead," she said. She gave him a slight smile.

"Alright, see you at dinner," he said as he followed the others out. "And nice speech."

"You never give up, do you?" Tom asked when the portrait had shut and left them alone in the lounge.

She sighed. She had not expected that he would take the hint but had hoped for a more of a reprieve than a few hours. She sat, not looking at him. "That seems like a really bad idea," she said simply.

"You appear to be remarkably competent at your job."

"Oh thank you! Thank you!" Hermione did not look up as she penned addendums and notes on what had been discussed. She also started a list of things to review for next week.

"That was meant to be a compliment."

"No offense…well actually, with offense, a compliment from you means less than nothing."

"Even on your administrative skills?" He asked.

"Well as far as I know, you have no admiration of anyone but yourself. That means that your compliment is either meant as irony or as flattery to gain my trust. Either way it means less than nothing."

"Perhaps you simply do not know me well."

At that, Hermione raised her head to give him a quick, cold smile. "Something I am thankful for, I assure you."

"Draco Malfoy is an interesting character," he said after a period of silence.

"Yes, he's of the old and prestigious Malfoy pureblood-line." Hermione did not try to hide her derision. "Must be refreshing to be in the presence of a non-contaminated student," she said, not taking her eyes from her writing. She wanted to be done quickly so she could get down to dinner and hear Hogsmeade stories.

"Is there anything I can say that will not make you angry?" Tom asked. "I am just curious."

Hermione thought about it. "No, I don't think so," she said finally.

"I thought we called a truce when it came to the issue of blood."

"That was before you tried to kill me." She looked up and caught a strange expression on his face before he covered it.

"That was not personal."

"I don't know about you but when someone wants to kill me I consider it very personal." She turned back to her papers. She was almost finished and she desperately wanted this conversation to be over.

He did not speak for five minutes and she had repress the curiosity to look up. She finally did as she completed her work and found with surprise that he was now standing next to the fire, looking into it. If he was not going to say anything, she certainly was not about to invite conversation. She organized the sheets of paper and put them into the desk. Despite his seeming indifference, Draco did come here quite often to keep himself updated.

Grabbing her stuff and giving Tom one last look, she headed for the door. Just before she reached it, Tom appeared ahead of her. Hermione had to jerk herself to a stop in order to avoid walking into him.

"You are not going to permit me regain my body no matter the outcome of the war." It was a statement.

Hermione looked away, unable to lie when asked so directly, especially when the answer was obvious. "You and I are on different sides, fundamentally and morally. As such, there is a very high chance you and I will be facing each other someday soon." As much as she detested Tom Riddle and everything he stood for, she could not make herself look forward to his ultimate demise.

She turned back to him and forced a smile. "Perhaps on that day, it will not be personal." Something flittered across his well-schooled blank expression and her own emotions as well and made her add, "Or maybe it will."

He did not reply and merely looked at her. The firelight reflected off of his dark eyes and cast an eerie glow to his gaze. She could not see what he was thinking and did not want to look deeper, lest she be pulled in.

Hermione set herself and walked resolutely through him, feeling a slight pang of regret. She paused for a fraction of a second to regain her equilibrium and continued on towards the Great Hall.

"For what it's worth," he called out after her, causing her to turn and look back at him. "I'm glad that I did not manage to kill you. The world is more interesting with you in it." He gave her a humorless half-smile and disappeared.

Hermione spent most of Sunday cloistered in the library studying. Her shadow, as she's started to think of him, had been absent since the prefect meeting. She could not be sure if he retreated into his diary or was still watching invisibly. Hermione now made it a point to do all her changing in the bathroom.

She still thought about the Horcrux hidden in Hogwarts often. Hermione avoided being alone with Harry, Ron and Draco when she had the diary on her in case they wanted to speak about it. She decided that the best time to leave the Journal in her room unattended was when she knew where Draco and Ginny were. This naturally suggested the idea of including the younger Weasley girl in the Horcrux hunt, for if they could trust Draco, they could certainly trust her. Hermione had mentioned it to Harry who said he would talk to the red-head about it.

Hermione also considered others they could potentially bring into the search. They were running out of time and needed all the help they could get. Neville topped the list in Hermione's mind. She was hesitant to include Luna however. If Luna said the wrong word to the wrong person in one of her dazed states, it could tip Lord Voldemort off. It was critical that Lord Voldemort not realize what they were doing and took no action to protect or move the anchors of his soul.

In the meantime, while having the occasional comment bestowed by Tom Riddle was unpleasant. It was still bearable.

It was less than a day later before she was completely dissuaded of that thought.

Monday's classes ended with the dreaded Slytherin-Gryffindor DADA double period. After the death of Professor Snape, Dumbledore had secured the services of a Swedish dueling instructor. The man, perfectly aware of the curse on the job and the fates of various professors that had not intended to relinquish the position, would not accept a contract for longer than one year. Professor Oddmund, a name that the class had spent a good week snickering at, put a lot of stock into practical examples with student participation. Hermione did not know if spending so much of his classes having students duel each other was his personal style or something Dumbledore suggested. Either way, it was very good preparation for what was to come.

There was a rumor going around that a good portion of the midterm mark was going to be based on a team duel between the two houses in each DADA period. Hermione thought that it might get messy in certain classes if this was the truth – hers in particular.

Today, he spent the first half of the class showing them new spells and then pushed all the chairs and desks to the side of the room. Professor Oddmund did not seem to have a system of any kind for choosing students to pair up for his examples. Sometimes Slytherins got to duel Slytherins and Gryffindors dueled Gryffindors, and sometimes it was ugly.

He always deconstructed the match afterwards and pointed out what people did right and what people did wrong. It was a very novel way of teaching and Harry had not liked a DADA professor so much since Remus Lupin had taught them. Granted, the choices he had in between were Barty Crouch Jr., Umbridge, and Snape.

Hermione was not very surprised when she caught sight of Tom watching the duel and circling the participants to get a better angle. His eyes were bright and alert. She almost felt bad that he was concentrating more on her class than she was.

She herself sat on the Gryffindor side – the room was divided along the middle – with Ron, Harry and Neville. She also managed to catch Draco's eye occasionally. The pair dueling – Pansy and Zabini – were evenly matched, though Pansy managed to win with a well placed freezing charm. They were not quite as good as Hermione and Ron, but both were competent. Hermione found herself imagining what it would be like to fight them for real as she watched the duels take place. It certainly helped that Professor Oddmund pointed out weaknesses and strengths for them. Hermione had already fixed a lot of flaws in her technique since the start of the year.

"Malfoy. Weasley."

"Oh that's not going to be good," Harry said from beside her. Ron stood up with a determined expression and they both wished him good luck.

"Nope, not good at all," she laughed when he was out of earshot. She caught Draco's eye as he got into position and rolled her own. Hermione was not really concerned; both of them knew better than to seriously hurt each other, especially in class.

Their duel lasted five impressive minutes, neither gaining the upper hand. Hermione was glad to see that they both were incredibly restrained in their choice of spells. If one ventured into slightly darker magic, the other would no doubt quickly follow, but both seemed to be holding back – partly for her sake, Hermione knew.

Then Draco looked past Ron to the entrance of the room. He had such a startled and frightened expression that Hermione turned, as did most of the room. By the time Hermione looked back, the duel was over. Ron had, attention divided, looked to the side for a fraction of a second but it was enough for Draco's _expelliarmus _to disarm him and knock him a couple of meters back on his ass.

The Slytherins all burst out laughing as most of the Gryffindors shouted, outraged. Hermione stifled a laugh and stood up, concerned at Ron's response to Draco's trick. Draco himself had put away his wand and walked up to Ron, holding the red-head's wand with one hand and offering the other to help him up.

She held her breath for a moment as Ron, slightly red, snatched up his wand and stared at the offered hand. Then he sighed and took it.

"I guess I really should know better than to fall for that," he said when Draco had pulled him to his feet. "It could get me into a lot of trouble if I get distracted that easily." _When our lives are on the line_ went unsaid.

And then Draco actually smiled at Ron. "If you ever get to the point where you're impervious to my dirty tricks, you'll be set." With a wink at Hermione, he returned to his chair.

Ron sat down and Hermione put her head on his shoulder as the professor launched into his analysis, ignoring the slightly worried look Lavender was shooting at her.

"Look on the bright side, at least we know Malfoy's acting has improved," Harry said as Professor Oddmund finished up by describing the exact point when Ron had lost the duel. "I'm impressed - there might be a career in there for him."

"Granger. Potter."

"Oh it's on," she said to her green-eyed best friend, unable to keep a straight face.

"It totally is, and you're going down." Harry stood and waved his wand extravagantly in her direction, making her laugh.

"Not if you're going to channel Professor Lockhart."

Harry gave her a light shove into her position, eyes dancing. He then performed the ridiculous over-the-top bow that Lockhart used to open his duel with Professor Snape in the second year.

Hermione cracked up and Harry waited for her to regain her composure.

Professor Oddmund twittered impatiently.

She set herself into her favorite dueling position and winked at Harry who winked back. She had not any expectations of winning all things considered. In their group, Harry was the one with the best reactions and best aim. To put it another way, Harry was a natural and Hermione just knew a lot of spells. _And_ he had been practicing.

Distantly aware the Tom was somewhere, watching her and studying her weaknesses, she opened the duel. Harry deftly avoided the babbling curse and cast his disarming charm. Hermione resisted the desire to roll her eyes – he really needed to stop relying on old faithful.

After a dozen back and forth exchanges, Harry had placed Hermione firmly in a defensive position, not that she had expected anything else. Resigned to losing, she was still determined to hold out for as long as possible. She managed to deflect a handful more before she almost got nailed by a _stupefy_.

His next spell would hit her.

As Hermione braced herself, something odd happened. It felt like someone had slammed into her from behind, but she did not move. More importantly, she did not move even though she should have flinched – she wanted to flinch.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry shouted.

She wanted to at least attempt to block it but she could not. And then her body threw itself to the side and into a roll.

"_Stupefy_!" she said. But it was not her, because Hermione did not tell her body to do any of those things. Panic rose and she wanted to scream but could not work her mouth or her vocal chords.

'Calm down!' It was Tom's voice but it was echoing in her head.

It all crashed together in an instant. He was controlling her, and fighting a rather nice duel with Harry as well. In the few seconds of shock after she realized what had happened, she was able to observe the duel she was fighting but could not influence. And lord, Tom was fast. The two of them fought like Aurors, and good ones at that.

'STOP IT!' she shouted in her mind once she had gathered her wits about her.

'If I do, you'll be defeated,' was the calm reply which seemed to be coming from behind her left ear.

'I don't care! GET OUT OF MY BODY!'

'No.'

If Hermione had been thinking about anything else besides fighting for her body back, she might have admired his ability to concentrate on a fight and hold another conversation at the same time. If she were panicking to any lesser degree, she would have realized, as she did later, that he was not using any spell that students before her had not already used.

But she was not thinking clearly. She just wanted control of her body back. 'STOP! Stop or I'll go and rip your bloody Journal to shreds! GET OUT!'

'As soon as the duel is over,' he said, now sounding slightly strained. The exchange of spells between Tom and Harry – which to the rest of the class looked like her and Harry – had increased in both speed and intensity.

But surprise and the sheer speed with which Tom cast his spells had thrown Harry off and he hesitated for a second.

'STOP IT! STOP IT! STOP IT!' she shrieked inside her head.

"_Deprimo_!" Tom shouted. The wind that came from her wand and her hand blasted Harry across the room, throwing him against the blackboard. He fell on the ground, stunned.

As she finally regained control of her body, she became aware that almost everyone in the room was cheering. The Gryffindors were cheering at the display of magical ability and the Slytherins were cheering because she, or rather Tom, soundly defeated Harry in a duel.

She ran to Harry and felt at his head and torso for damage. Harry opened his eyes and smiled at her. "Nice job," he groaned. "What potions have _you_ been drinking Hermione?"

"Oh my god, I'm sooo sorry Harry." She helped him to sit up and wrapped her arms around him. "It was just a fluke. Are you okay? Please say you're okay." She pulled back and looked him over.

He laughed, raising an arm to rub his head. "Chill 'Mione. I'm fine. A little bump, but fine."

"Oh thank goodness." She pointed her wand at his head and said "_Episkey_".

Harry put both hands on her shoulders. "Relax, I'm really okay. I appreciate the healing charm though."

Hermione closed her eyes in relief before she turned and opened them, searching for and finding her target in the room.

She heard Professor Oddment's praise of both of them but did not respond. Ron was now next to her as well and both her best friends were praising her ability with no small amount of surprise and pride in their tones.

"Blimey Hermione!" Ron said in awe.

But her eyes did not leave where Tom Riddle stood, see-through, in the middle of all the chaos. He looked slightly taken aback as he looked on her. Hermione did not exactly know what her expression looked like, but she knew it must not have been pleasant.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw that Draco stood, clapping but frowning as well. She shifted her gaze onto him. He was aware that something happened that he did not quite understand. His gaze followed her eye-line to the middle of the room and he looked even more confused at only seeing empty space.

His eyes flipped between her and where Tom stood, the cogs in his head turning. Then he muttered an oath and all but jumped back a number of steps, gaping at where Tom stood. He could not see the boy, but Hermione knew that now Draco knew.

She looked back at Tom with a sense of horror. All she could think about was that he could have used her to kill her best friend. And that could have been the end.

Her hand clenched around her wand in her sleeve.

From his expression it almost seemed as if he expected an altogether different reaction from her. But she did not care about figuring out why; all she could think of was getting the Basilisk fang Dumbledore let her keep from the bottom of her chest and protecting her friends from someone who was far too dangerous to have around.

A/N: Sorry about the cliff hanger but of course she's not going to kill him. This is a fluffy happy love story remember? And to clarify, Tom was joking about the random Ravenclaw girl. Like I said, he's broadening his range...although there was no reason he *had* to talk about girls with Hermione. See what I mean? He's not fully in control of his 17 year old boy instincts but he doesn't know it yet. Shhhhh. And no, I don't think Draco actually seduced Dumbledore tee-hee.

Man this chapter hurt. I re-plotted and re-wrote it a couple of times to get rid of as much suck as I can – it started off really, really bad. Next chapter – Tom's first short POV scene, Tom doing something good, Neville and Ginny joining in the Horcrux hunt, and Tom finding out about S.P.E.W. though not in that order. . And no, Ginny is definitely not fine. That'll become more apparent as we go but right now she's biding her time. For what you ask? It could be anything really *wink*.

"The world is more interesting with you in it" is a Hannibal Lecter line. I can't believe how many of you haven't watched that movie. Shame!

Keep reviewing please. Your reviews give me the power to keep writing. 3

Extra Review stuff: You guys have all been bringing up really interesting points and I'm trying to address as much as I can here. If you see something I'm trying that's not working or if you have a point to make about any of this or if you just like the story, review!

1. Someone anonymous (which is fine!) said that Hermione is a little 2-D and they would picture her more spiteful towards Tom. I know that when I write a heroine, especially if it's from her perspective, I tend to see her as kind of perfect. And while that does match up with movie-Hermione, we all know that book-Hermione is actually annoying at times. I'm trying but it's hard! I love her so much!

2. A couple of people have made comments about Europe in the middle ages and just how bad everything was as religions and powers were settling in. Certainly that would be a factor into why Salazar Slytherin would be against muggleborns. Tom Riddle however has been hurting muggles all his life and I think that he's arrogant enough to believe they could just be conquered. He might see them as a threat but he also might just see them as sheep.

3. Thanks to everyone who's been answering questions. As to what Tom Riddle is afraid of, the angle I'm going with for this story is the one that Katsheswims (and a few of you others) proposed – that he's afraid of being helpless and weak.

**NOTE/UPDATE – SEPT 12, 2010 – This story is NOT actually on hiatus. It is being completely re-written with the thought and planning that it deserves. It will be released, on a weekly basis, after being completed, when HARRY POTTER 7 the movie comes out. i.e. the end of NOV 2010. I promise it'll have everything it has now, and more, and be better for it. **


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